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The complete works of John Lyly

now for the first time collected and edited from the earliest quartos with life, bibliography, essays, notes and index by R. Warwick Bond
Lyly, John (1554?-1606)

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VOL. I
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VOL. III
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CERTAINE ENGLISHE Verses, presented vnto the Queenes most excellent Maiestie, by a Courtier: In ioy of the most happie disclosing, of the most dangerous conspiracies pretended by the late executed Traitours, against her royall person, and the whole Estate.
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POEMS
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I. Early Autobiographical: 1575–1580?
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13. A Dittie, wherein is contained divers good and necessary documents, which beeing embraced and followed earnestly, may cause a man to shunne manie evilles and mischaunces, that may otherwise fall upon him, ere he can beware.
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14. A Dittie, wherein the brevitie of man's life is described, how soone his pompe vanisheth away, and he brought to his latest home.
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15. A Glasse for all Men to behold themselves in; especially such proude and prodigall-minded Men, and such delicate and daintie Women, ‘who building on the pride of their beautie and amiable complexion, thinke scorne to become aged; and that their sweete faces should be wrinckled, or their youthfulnes brought into subjection by age.
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II. Early Love-Poems: BEFORE 1580?
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III. Four Songs
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IV. Later Love-Poems.
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V. Later Autobiographical: 1595–1600?
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VI Epigrams.

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501

66.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Lie downe poore heart and die a while for griefe]

Lie downe poore heart and die a while for griefe,
Thinke not this world will euer do thee good,
Fortune forewarnes ȳ looke to thy reliefe,
And sorrow sucks vpon thy liuing bloud,
Then this is all can helpe thee of this hell,
Lie downe and die, and then thou shalt doe well.
Day giues his light but to thy labours toyle,
And night her rest but to thy weary bones,
Thy fairest fortune followes with a foyle:
And laughing endes but with thine after grones.
And this is all can helpe thee of thy hell,
Lie downe and die and then thou shalt doe well.
Patience doth pine and pitty ease no paine,
Time weares the thoughts but nothing helps ye mind,
Dead and aliue aliue and dead againe:
These are the fits that thou art like to finde.
And this is all can helpe thee of thy hell,
Lie downe and die and then thou shalt doe well.
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