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The Arbor of Amitie

wherin is comprised pleasant Pohems and pretie Poesies, set foorth by Thomas Howell

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Being destitute of money, the complaint to his Friend.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Being destitute of money, the complaint to his Friend.

Of all the haplesse hap,
That chaunce to mortall fone:
Goldes want to stop a gap,
By proofe I finde is one.
No paine so sore doth freat,
No pinsons so can rent:
No smoking smart so great,
That makes the hart lament.
For emptie purse no game,
No foode, no friende, no cote:
For monie all doth frame,
Whose slaue we are by lote.
Where money friend doth faile,
There fawning friends be gone:
Farewell poore wretch all haile,
Light purse makes heauie mone.

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These paynes by proofe be gest,
What neede examples cost:
Where purse is so deprest,
As clapt in Sampson post.
Stormes past, yet soone retires,
And drowsie dumpes decay:
So God graunt iust desires,
To driue these plagues away.