University of Virginia Library

I.i.

Righmes that my groing studie ons perfourmed,
In teares, alas, cumpeld, woful staves begin.
My muses torne, behold, what write I shuld, indites,
Wher tru woful uerse my face with dole bedews.
Thes at lest no terror might constrain,
That felowes to our mone our way they shuld refrain.
The glory ons of happy griny youthe,
Now, fates of grounting age, my comfort all.
Vnlookt for age hied by mishaps is come,
And sorow bidz his time to add withal.
Vnseasond hore heares upon my hed ar powrd,
And loosed skin in feable body shakes.
Blessed dethe, that in switest yeres refraines,
But, oft calld, comes to the woful wights.
O with how defe eare she from the wretched wries,
And wailing yees, cruel, to shut denies.
While gileful fortune with vading goodz did shine,
My life wel ny the doleful houre bereved;
Whan her fals looke a cloude hath changed,
My wretched life thankles abode protractz.
Why me so oft, my frendz, have you happy cald?
Who fauleth downe in stedy step yet never stode.

I.ii.

O in how hedlong depth the drowned mind is dimme!
And losing light her owne, to others darkenis drawne,
As oft as driuen with erthely flawes the harmful care upward grows.
Wons this man fre in open fild used the skies to vew,
Of rose sun the light beheld,
Of frosty mone the planetz saw,
And what star els runs her wonted cours.
Bending by many circles this man had wone
By number to knowe them all;
Yea, causis eache whens roring windz the seas perturbz.
Acquainted with the spirit that rolles the stedy world,
And why the star that falz to the Hisperias waters
From his reddy roote doth raise herself.
Who that gives the springes mild houres ther temper,
That with rosy floures the erthe be deckt,
Who made the fertile autumne at fullist of the yere
Abound with grape al solne with ripest fruits.
He, wonted to serche and find sondry causes of hiden nature,
Downe lies of minds light bereued,
With brused neck by overheuy chaines,
A bowed lowe looke by waight bearing,
Driven, alas, the sely erthe behold.

I.iii.

Than night overblowen, the darkenis left me,
And formar strengh unto my yees retornd.
As whan the heavens astound with hedlong wind,
And pale amidst the cloudy mistes
The sun is hid, and in the heavens no stars aperes,
From hy the night on erthe is spred:
The same if Boreas sent from his Tracien den
Doth strike and opens the hiden day,
Shines out, and with his soudan light Φebus shaken
With his beams strikes al lokars on.

I.iv.

Who so quiet in setled life
Proud fate kepes under fote
And stable defending eache fortune
His chire unwonne preserues,
Him shal no rage nor seas threates,
From depthe that hurles her fome,
Nor wood Veseuus with holy pittz
That burstz out his smoky fires,
Nor way of flaming sulφar, wont to strike
The towers hie, can moue.
Why so muche can wretched men
At fiers tirants wondar, forsles, furious?
Hope thou naugh ne feare,
Disarme thou may the powreles ire;
But who so quaking feares or wische,
Not being stable, and in his strengh
Down falz his shild, and changing place,
Huges the chaine by wiche he is drawen.

I.v.

O framar of the starry circle,
Who, lening to the lasting grounstone,
Withe whorling blast hevens turnest
And law compelst the skies to beare,
Now that with ful horne,
Meting all her brothers flames,
The lessar stars the mone dimmes,
Now darke and pale her horne,
Nar to the son loseth her light.
And she that at beginning of night
Hesperus frosen rising makes,
And Luciφar palled by Φebus upriseth,
Againe her wonted raines exchangeth.
Thou, by the cold of lefe falne shade,
Straightist thy light with shortar abode,
Thou, when the feruent sommar comes,
Easy nights houres deuidest.
Thy power tempers the changing year,
That what leves Boreas blastz bereves
Gentil Seφirus brings as fast:
Sedes that the north star doth behold
At highest blade the dok star burneth up.
Naught loused from auncient law
Leves the work of her owne place.
Al giding with assured end,
Man's works alone thou dost dispice,
O gidar by right desart from mean to kipe.
For why so many slipar fortune
Turnes doth make? Oppressing fautles
Dew paine for wicked mete,
But in hy seatz the wicked factz abide,
And wicked stamps on holy necks
With uniust turne,
And cleare uertu dimmed
With thick blackenis lurketh,
And iust man the wickeds crime doth beare.
Fals othe in fraude doth the annoy.
Who whan the can use ther forse,
Whom many uulgar feare,
The mightiest kings they can subdue.
O now behold of wretched rathe,
Thou who so ties the bondz of all;
Vs men regard, of thy great worke not the vilest part,
How tost we be with fortunes waues.
O weldar apeace the roring floudes
And with what boundz the great heauen thou gidest
The stable erthe do stedy.

I.vi.

Whan heuy Cancer sme
By Φebus beames inflames,
Than he that lent plentyes sead
To forowes that denied them,
Bigiled by Ceres faithe,
Let him seake the acorne tre.
The decked wode seake not
Whan thou violetz do gather,
Whan with the northy blastz
Ther roring fildz affrightz,
Nor seake not thou with gredy hand
The springy palmes to weld:
Grapes if thou wische injoy,
In autumne Bacchus rather
His gifts bestowes.
Times God assigneth fit
For eche mans office best,
Nor the tournes that he appoints
Suffers to be mixte.
So what so leves by rachelous way
The certain rule
Joyful ende shall neuer hit.

I.vii.

Dim cloudes,
Skie close
Light none
Can afourd.
If roling seas
Boustious sowth
Mixe his fome,
Griny ons
Like the clirristz
Days the water
Straight moude
Sturd up al foule
The sight gainsais.
Running stream
That poures
From hiest hilz
Oft is staid
By slaked
Stone of rock.
Thou, if thou wilt
In clirest light
The trothe behold,
By straight lin
Hit in the pathe.
Chase joyes,
Repulse feare,
Thrust out hope,
Woe not retaine.
Cloudy is the mind
With snafle bound
Wher they raigne.

II.i.

This whan her proud hand changeth cours
And Euripus foming like is throwne,
Whilom she fierce kings cruel destroies,
And lowe looke of won man deceitful raiseth.
She hereth not the wretche nor hedeth his teares,
Willingly skornes the sighs that spitful she made.
Thus playeth she, and so her strength doth trie;
A wondar great to hers she shewes:
If any man you view, one houre
Both thrals him and Extolz.

II.ii.

If sandz such store by raging flawes
As stured sea turnes up,
Or skies bidect with mighty stars
The heuens al that lights,
And suche welthe bestowes,
Nor plenty with fullist horne withdrawes her hand,
Mankind yet ceaseth not
With wailing mones bewail him.
Thogh God his vowes willingly receue,
The liberal dolar of golds plenty,
And gridy folke with honors great indues,
Naught to haue got they seame,
But egar rauining, deuouring what they had,
Stretcheth the chawes for more.
What raignes can drawe bak
Hedlong desiar to stable end,
Whan thirst of getting inflames
The flowing man with largist gifts?
No man thinkes him riche
Who quaking mones belives a beggar.

II.iii.

In poole whan Φebus with reddy waine
The light to spred begins,
The star dimed with flames opprissing
Pales her whitty lookes.
Whan wood with Siφirus mildding blast
Blusheth with the springing roses,
And cloudy sowthe his blustering blastes,
Away from stauke the beauty goes.
Some time with calmy fayre the sea
Void of waves doth run;
Oft boistrus tempestz the north
With foming seas turnes up.
If rarely stedy be the worldz forme,
If turnes so many hit makes,
Belive slippar mens luckes,
Trust that sliding be ther goods.
Certain, and in eternal law is writ,
Sure standeth naugh is made.

II.iv.

Who lasting wyl
Wary settel seat,
And stable not of roring
Eurus blastz ben won,
And careth skorne
The waves of thretning sea,
Shuns soking sandes,
And top of hiest mount.
One the froward southe
With all his affrights,
The other loused refuse
A hanging waight to beare.
Fleing perillous lot
Of pleasantz seat,
On lowe stone remember
Thy house sure to place.
Thogh wynd blowe,
Myxing waters to botom,
Thou, happy plast in strengh
Of quietz rampar,
Happy shalt live
And smile at skies Wrathe.

II.v.

Happy to muche the formar age
With faithful fild content,
Not lost by sluggy lust,
That wonts the long fastz
To louse by son got acorne,
That knew not Baccus giftz
With molten honey mixed
Nor Serik shining fleece
With Tirius venom die.
Sound slipes gave the grasse,
Ther drink the running streme,
Shades gave the hiest pine.
The depth of sea they fadomd not,
Nor wares chosen from fur
Made stranger find new shores.
Than were navies stil,
Nor bloudshed by cruel hate
Had fearful weapons staned.
What first fury to foes shuld
Any army rayse
Whan cruel woundz he saw
And no reward for bloude?
Wold God agane our formar time
To wonted maners fel!
But gridy getting loue burnes
Sorar than Etna with her flames.
O who the first man was
Of hiden gold the waight
Or gemmes that willing lurkt
The dear danger digd?

II.vi.

We know how many ruines made,
Whan flamed citie and fathers slain,
That tirant who ons brother kild
Imbrued with mothers bloude,
With looke oueruewed her body cold.
No teares bedewes his face, but was
A domar of dedded beauty.
The same yet with sceptar peple ruled,
Evin suche as son espies at furdest west
From the orison come,
Whom frosty seven stars ouerlookes,
Whom wrothful north with drie heat
Affraies in sithing of the burning sandz.
Could all his lofty power at lenghe
Turne the rage of frantique Nero?
O grevous hap whan wicked sword
To cruel venom joingnes!

II.vii.

Who so with hedlong mynd glory
Alone belives as greatest thing,
And quarters of largist hevens behold
With straightid seat of erthe,
Wyl blusche that hit not filz
The short compas of gridy desire.
Why, proud men, do you crake
Your necks from mortal yoke retire?
Thogh fame by people strange
Flying spred the tonges open,
And noble house by great titelz shine,
Death hates the hiest glory,
Intangles low and hauty hed
And equalz lest to most.
Wher now lies faithful Fabritius bones?
Wher Brutus or currish Cato?
Small lasting fame signes
A vaine name with fewest letters.
But why do we know noble names,
Do we not see them to consumed?
Ly you shal unknowen at all,
Nor fame shal uttar who.
If you suppose that life be longar drawen
For brethe of mortal fame,
Than the second dethe exspect.

II.viii.

That world with stable trust
The changing seasons turnes
And divers sedes stil holdes league,
That Φebus the ruddy daye
With golden car bringes furthe,
That mone may rule the night
Wiche Hesperus broght,
The gridy sea her streame
In certaine limites kipt,
That lawful be not to wide world
To bancke her spatius boundz:
Al this hole molde ties
In ruling erthe and sea
Loue ruling hevens.
Who if the raines he slake,
What so now by loue is linked
Straict maketh war
And seakes to wracke that worke
Whiche linked faithe
Hit quiet motions moued.
He in holy peace doth hold
The bounded peoples pact,
And linkes sacred wedlok
With chast goodwyl,
Who lawes his owne
To true associates giues.
O happy humain kind,
If loue your mindz
The same that heuen doth rule
Mygh gide.

III.i.

Who frutfulst fild wyl sowe,
First fried of fruit must he make his leas,
With sithe must fern and busches cut,
That Ceres may swel with new sede.
The flies labor swetar is,
If strongar tast be first eate.
As Luciφar dothe the darkenis chase,
A fayre day spurs on the ruddy hors.
Thou, looking so on falsed good,
Begin thy neck from yoke to pluck.
Therby thy mind may true obtain.

III.ii.

How many raines of causis gideth
Nature powreful, by which the great
World with lawes provident kepes
And tijnge, strains with unlousing
Knot eche thing, wel pleases with shirllest
Note expres with drawing strings.
Thogh Aφricke lionnes faire
Gives beare and takes giuen food with paw
And cruel kipar feares the wonted stripes that bare;
If bloud haue ons dyed ther looke
Ther courage retournes to formar state,
And with rorings lowde them selues remembring,
Slacks from tied knots ther necks,
And furius first with cruel tothe
On kipar raging wrathe bestowes.
The chatting bird that sings on hiest bow,
In holow den is shut is she.
To this, thogh cups with hony lined
And largest food with tendar loue
Beguiling care of man bestowes,
If yet skipping on the eues
Spies pleasing shady wood,
With fote she treds her skatterd meat,
In sorowing seakes the woodz alone,
And with swit vois the trees resountz.
The twig drawen ons with mighty fors
Bowing plies her top;
The same if bending hand do slack,
The top upright doth turne.
The son to Hesperius waters falz,
But by secret pathe againe
His cart turnes to est againe.
Each thing sekes owt his propre cours
And do reiois at retourne ther owen,
Nor ordar giuen to any remains
Onles he joinges to end his first
And so stedyes his holie round.

III.iii.

Thogh riche man with flowing golden golfe
Couetous hepes not rechis that suffice,
His neck adornes with geme of reddis sea,
With hundred oxe the fruitful fildz doth til,
Yet eating care leues him not quicke,
Nor ded the fliting good accompagnies.

III.iv.

Thogh the proude man with Tirius shelles
Be dekt and shining stone,
Hated yet of all liued Nero
For cruel lust.
But ons thogh wicked he gaue
Vnmete curules to reuerent fathers.
Who yet happy thoght them
Whom wicketz sort estemed?

III.v.

He that sekes mighty be,
Cruel myndz must tame,
Nor won with lust his neck
Filthy raynes subdue.
Thogh India soil far of
At thy lawes do shake,
And uttermost island
Serue the to,
Yet is hit not thy powre
Hiden cares expel,
Nor wretched mones
Expulse thou canst not.

III.vi.

Al humain kind on erthe
From like beginninge comes:
One father is of all,
One only al doth gide.
He gaue to son the beames
And hornes on mone bestowed,
He men to erthe did giue
And signes to heauen.
He closed in limmes our soules
Fetched from hiest seat.
A noble sede therfor broght furth
All mortal folke.
What crake you of your stock
Or forfathers old?
If your first spring and auther
God you view,
No man bastard be,
Vnless with vice the worst he fede
And leueth so his birthe.

III.vii.

All delight hathe this with hit,
With stinge in joyars hit
Like to winged flies,
Whan hony the haue made,
Away the go and with stikking
Bite, the stinged hartes strikes.

III.viii.

O in how begiling pathe
Men ignorance leades.
Seake not the golde in griny tre
Nor look for precious stone on grape;
Hide not on hily tops your baites
Your dische with fische to fil,
And gotes if thou wylt take
The tyrrhene sea not serche.
For hid in the waues man knoes the waters stream,
And what fiersist riuer haue whittist pearle,
Or wher the reddys rubies
And shores also fild most with smallist fische
Or haue most porpos skales.
But hiden for they know not
The good the seake,
Blindid ignorant must the bide
To cerche byonde the northen pole,
Drowned in the erthe the rake.
What hest shall I for dullardz make?
Euen this, that whan with carke the falz haue got,
Truist than shalt knowe The best.

III.ix.

O thou in lasting sort the world that rulest,
Of erthe and heauen the framar, who time from first
Bidst go and stable stedy all elz dost while,
Whom outward causis forst not to forme
The worke of sliding substance, but shape
Of greatest good that envy wantz, thou al
By hiest sample gides: the fairest thou,
The goodlist world that mindst, and of like mold hit made,
Bidding the perfaictz the complete parts performe.
In number thou elementz ties, as ryming cold
To melting flames be ioingned: lest purest fire faile
Or waights to drowned land befall.
Thou binding the soules spirite the moues
Al that concernes the triple nature
And dost deuide them into agrying limmes.
Who cut in circles two the motion glimmers,
And brething to her selfe retournes
The dipe mind bisetz and alike heauin rules.
Thou with like cause the soules consernes
And liues that meanar be to swiftist wains,
Thou fitting hiest spirites
In heauen and erthe dost sowe,
Whom with a gentil law to the retourned
Thou makest be broght to fire from whence it came.
Grant that the mynd, O father, climb to thy hiest seat.
And on thy vew the clirest sigh may set.
Away cast erthely cloude and waight of this mold,
Do thou with lustar then them grace.
Thou art the cleare and quiet rest for best folke,
The to admire is first, last, help, gide,
Pathe and stedy last.

III.x.

Al you togither come that taken be,
Whom begiling lust with wicked chanes hath bound,
Dabeling the erthely myndz;
Here rest of labor shal you haue,
Here open sanctuary for wretches alone.
Not al that Tagus with her golden sandz
Doth give, or Hermus with her glittering shore,
Or Indian dwelling nire to hottische circle,
That griny stone with clirist doth mixe,
So clires the sight, nor more the blindid mindz
Returnes into ther shades.
What of al thes hathe pleased and delited,
That erthe hathe kept in darkist caue:
The lustar that doth gide the heauen and rule,
The ruines dark of soule forbidz.
This light he who can decerne
Beauty suche in Φebus beames denies.

III.xi.

Who so the trueth with deapest mynd doth sirche
And sekes by no bywais awry to stray,
Into him selfe returne the light of newar mynd,
And longe discours straining to a round,
And teach his mynd what so without he seke,
Layd up amonge his treasure let him kepe.
Lately that which blacky cloud hathe dimmed,
That lightar shal thou shine out.
For not al light from mynd hath drawen
The body carying a forgetful waight.
Ther stiks, I trowe, an inward sead of trothe
Wiche kindlez best by learnings belowes.
For axed why do you the right desire,
If instinct in thy hart ther wer not?
If Platoes musis tales the trueth,
That eche man lernes
Forgetting he remembars.

III.xii.

Blist that may of good
The fontane clire behold,
Happy that can of waighty
Erthe the bondes to breake.
The Tracian profit wons
His wives funeralz wailing
Whan with sorows note
The wauering trees he moued,
And stedy rivers made,
And hind caused join
Unfearing sides to lion fierce,
Nor hare did feare the looke
Of cruel dog so plised with song.
Whan ferventar desir the inward
Brest more burnt,
Nor could the notes that al subdued
Pacifie ther lord,
Of ireful gods complaining,
The helly house went to.
Ther faining verse,
Tuning to sounding stringe
What he drew from springes
The greatest of mother gods,
What feable mone could giue,
What doubled love afourd,
Bywailes and hel doth stur
With dulce suite pardon
Of darkenes lord besiche.
Wondar doth the thre hedded
Jailor, amasid with unwonted verse;
Revenging goddes of faultes
That wontid guilty feare,
Sorowing with tears bedewed the were.
Not Ixiones hed
The whirling while did turne,
And lost with longue thirst
Tantalus riuers skornes.
The vultur fild with notes
Tityus livor tared not.
At last wailing said the juge
Of shady place: We yield;
To man we giue his wife for feere,
Won by his song.
With this law bound be the gift,
While in Tartar thou bidest
Turne back thy looke thou must not.
But who to loue giues law?
For greatest law his love he made.
So, night drawing to her ende,
Eurydicen his Orφeus
Sawe, lost and killed.
This fable toucheth you,
Who so doth seak to gide
To hiest day his mynd.
For who in hely shade
Won man his yees doth bend,
What so he chifest held
In vewing hel hathe lost.
Et sic bene.

IV.i.

For spedy quilles haue I
That fur aboue the pole do reache,
Wiche whan my fliinge mind putz on,
Hating the erthe despice hit.
And hiar hies than erthes globe,
And cloudes behind me see,
And pas aboue the fiars top
With swiftnis that the heavens heat,
Until to starry house hit comme
With Φebus sorteth way,
And soldiar made of shining star
Cold Saturne doth felowe,
Or wher the shewing night
The circle round doth make.
And whan got ynough she hathe,
The owtmost pole he leues,
And worthy made of hiest light
Presseth the waight of spidy skie.
He, lord, holdz of kings the septar
And raines of world doth gide,
And stable rules the spidy cours,
Of all the noble juge.
Hither if the way back do bring the,
Wiche now forgetting thou requirest:
This, wilt thou say, my country is, I know.
Hens came I, hire wyl I stay my step.
And if of erthe hit plese the
The darkenes left to vewe,
The grimme lookis that people dredeth so
Of banissed tirants shalt behold.

IV.ii.

Thos wiche you se as kings
Sit in ye top of hiest seat,
Florishing with purple fayre,
Invirond with dreadful armes,
With ireful looke that thretes,
For hartz yre scant drawing brethe.
If any take from wicked men
Of false honor the couer,
Within shal se ther lordz
Straightened giues to beare.
Hither lust them drawes,
Hire ire ther myndz afflictz,
Who sturred raiseth stormes,
Sorow or the taken wers,
Or slippar hopes tourment.
Wherfor whan one hed
So many tirantz beares,
He doth not that he wold,
Prest with so wicked lordz.

IV.iii.

Ulisses captaines sailes
And sailing ships in sea
Eurus to iland broght.
The goddis feare sitting,
As borne of Φebus line,
To her newe gestz
The charmed cup doth giue.
Wiche as in divers sortz
Herber rular gides her hand,
This man the bores snout do couer,
Another the Marmican lion
With tuske and paw indueth.
This like to the wolfe nv borne,
Whan wepe he wolde, he houles.
Another as Indian tigar
Walkes in his house as mild.
Thogh from many euelz
The winged Arcadian god
Pitying the besiged captaine
From gestz plague preserved,
Yet wicked cup the sailars
With mouthes supte up,
And swin changed Ceres corne
For foode of acorne chosen.
Of lost men naught remained
Of body or of voyce.
Only ther mynd stable aboue
Whan the monstars suffar, wailes.
O hand to weke nor herbes of power,
Thogh limmes to change,
Hartz yet alter may not.
Whithein bides men strengh,
Hid in his towre.
Thos venoms with more fors
Man from himselfe withdrawes,
Who, thogh the body not,
The soule with woundz assailes.

IV.iv.

What boutes hit make so great strife
And with thy hand thy dethe procure?
If dethe you seake, she draweth ny
Agreyng, not abides the winged horse.
Whom serpent, lion, tigar, beare and bore
With bite do seake, with blade your selues pursue.
That properties agre not but do difar,
Ar they the cause of wicked strife and war,
And perish wold with weapon diuers?
No just meane of cruelty ynough.
Fit mede woldest thou giue desartz?
Of right the good do loue, the yl bemone.

IV.v.

If man know not how stars
The Arcture next by hyest poles doe slyde,
Nor why Bootes slow glydes by ye wane
And sluggy flames in sea doo dip,
When her swift rysings to soone performs,
Of hyest heauens the law will muse.
Of fulled moone the hornes whitenid
Infected with ye bounds of darkest night.
And such as with her shyning face were shaded
Dymmed Pheba those stars discouer;
A common error folkes assayles,
And brasen tymbrells stryke with many strokes.
None musith that the southest wynd
With hurling waue astones the shore,
Nor that ye hardnid snowy ball by cold
By feruent heate of sonne resolues.
For ready is the cause of yis be seene,
But hydden causes whyrls ye mynd.
Such as our age scarce knowith lyke
And vulgar fleete at souden gase.
Let cloudy faulte of error giue his place
And wonders sure be seene shall cease.

IV.vi.

If wary alone of thundering God ye lawes thou wilt
With purest mynde beholde,
Of hyest heauen the top doe vewe.
There planets, with justest league of all,
Agreement old doo kepe.
The sonne, styrd up by ruddy fyre,
Phebas frosy axill tree ne letts,
Nor that beare that on ye top of the world
A running course doth bend,
That neuer other stars wet beholding
Dround under western depth is touched,
And seketh not with flames the sea to hit.
Ever with equall turne of tyme
Hesperus showes ye later shades,
And Lucifer retournes ye fayrest day.
So interlaced looue renewes
The eternall courses all,
So jarring warr from starry sky made outlaw.
The elementz all accord tempars
In equal sort, that striving
Moisteurs to droughts [by] turnes giue way,
That the coldz kipe faithe with flames,
And hanging fire upward bend.
And heuy erthe with waight bow downe.
By seluesame cause in milddist springe
The flowring yere his sauors yeldz,
Hottist sommer corne doth ripe,
And fruitful autumne apples beares,
Dripping showres wintar moistz.
This temper feedes and brings fourth
What so lyfe in world doth brethe.
The same snatching makes and plucks away
By the last gasp ending spring.
The maker hye meane while sitts,
Ruling bends of all ye raynes,
King and lord, spring and first
Lawe, and wise, of just ye judge,
And such by styrring as he rayses,
Backdrawing stayes, and wandring keeps.
For but returning rightest lynes
Again he bent to bowing wheels
The order that now stable keeps
Disseuerd all from spring wold faynte.
Such is ye common loue of all,
That with returne, for end of good be kept.
In other sort endure they could not,
Unles agayne by loue returnd
Back to the cause that made them bend.

IV.vii.

Twis fiue yeres wratheful Atride made
With Φrisians ruines war,
The unchast bed of brother so revenged.
He, while hoissing sailes to Grecians ship he gaue,
With wische and bloud the windes apeced;
Dispoiled of fathers care, the cruel priest
His daughtars throte of life deprived.
Vlysses wailed his lost peers
Whom bloudy Poleφemus in his large den
Gulped down unto his cruel panche,
And furius yet with his yeles hed
His joy repaid with woful teares his owne.
Hardy labors his Hercules did grace.
He centaurs proude did tame,
Of skin the lion flead,
With certain shaftes the birdz did hit,
Snatched aples from the looking dragon,
His left hand peaced with golden metal,
Cerberus with threfold cheane doth drawe.
A victor he is said to set the lord for meat
To cruel forefoted bests.
Hidra killed by venom sered,
Achelous streame with firy looke
Drowned under the shore his shamed face.
Anteus he strake undar the Libeans sandes,
Cacus apesed Euanndars wrothe
And shuldars those wiche by heauens shuld pres
The bore the same with folme did marke.
The last labor heauen beareing with nek unboued
The heauen decernes for labors pane.
Forward go that stronge be wher hiest way
Of graetest sample bides.
Why, sluggardz, baks do you tourne?
The erthe won, the heauens he Giues.

V.i.

Near the craggs of Achemians rock wher turned to folowars
Brests the flying warior dartz doth throw,
From one springe Tigris eke Euφrates arise,
Strait by waters parted soundred be;
Who met and in one cours reclaimed,
The streame that eache depthe drew agries.
Let top sailes meet and trunckis by currant drawen
And mixed waters fil the changing cours,
And suche falz as bending erthe hath skattered
A running ordar of falling gulfe ordars.
So what so seame by slakning ranes to slip
Chanchis bit yet indures and by a law goes on.

V.ii.

Cleere Phebus with purest light
The honnyed mouth of Homer sings.
Who yet ye deepe bowells of earth and sea
With weake sight of beames pears not,
Not so of the great world the framar.
Gainst him that al from hy doth view
No waight of erthe may resist,
Not night with darkist clouds ganesays.
In moment stroke his mynd all sees,
What wer, what be, what shal bifall,
Whom sole alone for that he al espies
Truly the may sole call.

V.iii.

What disagrijng cause the bond of all things breakes?
What god suche wars twixt two trothes makes,
That what so coupled singly agree
The selfsame mixt must be disionyed?
But discord none among the truthes befals,
And certain sure vnto themselues do stik?
But mynd opprest by blindid limmes
Can not by flame of overwhelmed light
The smal knots of al things finde.
But why with suche desire doth true mynde seake
The hiden causes of thinges serche out?
Knowes he that gridely to knowe he wyls?
Why strives he to knowe agane the had?
If ignorant he be, why blindid things seakes he?
For who that wischeth that knowes not what,
Or who foloweth that he wots not?
Or how may he finde, or found knowe
Suche forme of wiche he knowes not shape?
And whan he viewes the hyest mynd,
The chief and al togither may he get?
But now the mynd, hid in limmes cloudes,
Hath not of al forgot his owne,
And, thogh the partz be lost, retaines the hed.
Who euer seakes the trueth to knowe,
Of nether sort is rightly called,
For nether al doth knowe or ignorant of al,
But top of al retaining kipes by whose aduis,
From hy the seen draweth that bettar he may
The partz forgot the kept rejoingne.

V.iv.

Ons in the porch wer broght in men
Of obscure line, and old the wer,
Who sens and image out of lest motes
In mens myndz ingrauen beliue,
As oft haps the running stile
In sea paper leue,
Some printid lettars stik,
That marke haue none at all.
But if the mynd by her owne raigning
Expris by motions naught,
Saue only patient lies
Subjiect to bodies markes
And vain the fourmes
Glaslike of all doth make.
Whenche this that in our mynd raignes
Knoweledge of al discernes?
What power al beholdz,
Who the knowen deuides?
And knowing eache way
Now lifts on hie the hed,
Than falz to lowest thinges,
Than gathering in hit selfe
With truethe fals rebukes?
This is the making cause
Wiche much more mightiar is
Than suche as only material markes
Receaues with her owne prints.
But yet a passion doth begin and sturs
The myndz fors while body liues,
Whan ether light the yees doth hit,
Or sound in ear doth strike.
Than sturred strengh of mynd
What figures within hit holds
Joigned like he cals,
Applies them to the outward knowen,
And fancies mixe to formes
That hiden rest within.

V.v.

In how many shapes pas beastes on ground,
Of wiche of bodies long the dust some turnes
With fors of brest contin[u]ed trace doth trail,
Some whos swiftnis wings the windz do part
And strait the bredhth of largist skie doth pas,
Some on ground ther steps to print reiois,
Or griny fildz to pas, or woodz to haunt.
Whos formes thogh thou see difar far,
Yet downe face thers ther dullid sencis.
Mankind alone his hed upward bendz,
At eas doth stand with body clad and erthe lookes on.
This figure warns, but for the clays deceat,
That thou with liftid looke that heauen aspiring upcast thy he[d],
On hy thy mynd shuldst raise, lest overwaid
Thy body made aloft, thy mynd shuld Lowar sit.