The Works of William Fowler :: :: University of Virginia Library

Quhen than I saw no mortall thingis so ferme and stable stand
now whether the same in seis may be, in air, or earthe, or land,
Or vnder heavin anye thing bot totteringlie declyne,
vnstable in thair trustles course, I left these eyes of myne,
And with my selff vnto my selff to speik I than began,
“one Whome hes thow thy hoipe and fayith now fixed, o wratched man?”
My answer wes than in this sort: “Evin in that god and Lorde
who fayithfull in his promeis is, all falsett hes abhorde,
Who in his treuthe most steidfast Is, and in his doingis iust,
and blissit thame of speciall grace that in him puttis thair trust.

Bot now, alace, I know to weill, and to my shame I see,
how that this blinde deceatfull world hes blindlinis scorned me;
Now is the vayle tane from my eyes, I sie now what I am,
and quhat in tymes past hawe I bene I now beholde the sam,
And now I lwik how that the tyme dois pass, dois goe, and flie,
and knoweth none bot evin my self for this suld blamed be;
For that the fault cam be my self, who tymelie suld foirsene
to opned wpp the lowring lidds and windowis of my ene,
And not so driftinglie deferd, nor taryed to this tyme
that hes to long prolonged my aige so cairles in hir pryme.

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Bot when agane I call to mynde the goodnes of our lord,
and how from age all ages dois his merceis great record,
Who of his hevinlie gratious grace wes never late nor slaw,
on him I fix my confidence, that he sall mak me shaw
Some worthie workis of ferwent fayith or I from hence do pass,
or yit this catiffe combred corss returne to dust or ass.”

Thus as I wes within my self discoursing to and froe—
“thow that all earthlie mortall thingis dois in thair changeing goe,
Who hes thair standing so vnsure, what than thair end sal be,
that thus the heavins circled course do guyde thame so we see?”—

This pansing so, and whils my mynde the more on this was bent,
Or it semed to me that to this world a change in haist wes sent,
In place thairof a new in age, not subiect to decay,
Eternall and Immoveable, that sall no change assay.
Thair than appered the splendant Sun with all the heavinis round,
the twinkling starris, the spacious seis, and all this earthlie ground,
With all thair bewtye and thair grace so suddanlie defaist,
and in thair rowme a mirrier world and newar brawelie plaist.
Quhat wounder and quhat merwell than did not my thoughts assay,
quhen that I saw the moveing heavinis vpone one fute to stay,
That never wonnt to stable stand, bot in thair race and course
confusedlie all thingis to change, renverss, and to rebourse.
And thair the thrie partis of the Sun I saw all brough to one,
and that same one not haveing course, nor motioun haveing none,
Nor yit to be as it was wonnt to speid him self and haist,
bot for to be evin lyke the earthe, of herbis full bair and waist.

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For nather sall nor was nor Is, afore or yit behinde,
nor such distructioun of the tymes that by the heavins we finde
Sall more haif place, which wonnt to mak the lyfe of man with all
waik, seiklie, fragill, and infirme, and bitterer than the gall;
And as the Sun transparant Is owt through the glistring glass,
so sall the thoughts of mortall men more through & swiftlie pass;
For they no fancie sall retane whairin the glass Is sene
some obiect through the sonnye beames that so resplendant bene.
O what a grace sall be to me if so that I culd gane
that high, that cheiff, and souerane good, and thairto might attane,
Whair is no ewill, which only tyme so mixis and Inwertis,
and with the tyme dois only come and with the tyme departis!

Nor sall the Sun more hawe his place or mansioun in these sings
of Pisces or the horned Bull, which saesoun change inbringis
Vpon our laubouris and our workis, in which they faid and grow,
and gendered ar or ellis consumed, as we by proofe dois know.
O blissed spreittis that ar so found within his holye queare,
or in that hevinlie cumpanie so happie dois appeare,
Who makis tham self of mortall folk to be Immortall men,
and registers thair noble names by long eternall Pen!
O happie he that findis the fwirde of this sharpe raging flood
that lyfe is cald, to worldlie men both Ioyfull, glad, and good!
O cateiff ar these vulgar sort, blinde both in eyes and mynde,
that hes thair hoipe, thair trust, thair thought, to these things all inclynde,
Which eating and consuming tyme so quiklye dois destroy,
and nothing ellis dois leawe behind bot sorrow and anoy!
O people deiff, in hearing hard, both naked, fraill, and waik,
of reasoun woyde, of counsell poore, that Iudgement dois inlaik,

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Seik euery quhair, diseased in all, and destitute of grace!
O mortall misers miserable, that knowest not god this space,
That with the twinkling of his ee dois rewll this massiwe round,
that calmes and stormes the elementis of contrars so compound,
Whose glorie is so infinit none can it comprehend,
no mortall wights, nor nather I, nor angellis that attend
Vpone his Maiestie dewyne, who ar with him acquent,
and of his glorie to sie on pairt for thousandis ar content!
O wandring myndis that hingis in doubt and houngrie ay in end!
to what effect dois all your thoughts to trouble yow intend,
When that a moment of ane houer sall shaddowles leawe voyd
that vpon which so many yeares yow hawe your panis employid?
For that which long tyme past before or present is in sight,
which was the strene, or yit tomorrow, in morning, or at night,
Or anye vther course of tyme, all changed sone sall be,
and not one point sall pass away as we a shaddow sie.

Thair sall no more heirafter than Is, was, nor sall hawe place,
bot only all in present be in nor this day and space,
And sall eternitie be gathred whole inteir,
and all such other obstacles sall from ws far reteir;
And all these markis vnited of before or yit behinde
sall quiklye thair defaced be that occupeid the mynde;
Nor nather sall such obiect be, nor yit suche sight remane,
on which our hope and memorie sall thairto farther strane,
Which variant vew makis oftentymes impudent men to panss,
and vanelie in thair vanetie to tak a foolish trance,
Whose thoughts ar in thame selfis so vane, they think thair lyfe a play
in deming suirlie they sall be to morrow as the day.

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Thair salbe no diuisioun of les from les at all,
bot all sall ioyntlie be conioyned and framed in this ball;
Nor after that great tryall day the sommer tyme sall last,
nor wintar with the sturdie stormes and with hir busling blast,
bot all sall change, and with the same evin tyme by death sall die,
and all this changeles solid place that day sall changed be.
For nather than sall haistie tyme, that waists away and weares,
and swiftlye passis but returne, nor yit these present yeares
heirafter hawe within thair hand the goverment of fame,
that dois belong to mortall men, and purchest hes the same;
But that which ones was pure and cleir sall ay be cleir and suir,
and that which ones so famous was Eternall sall indwir.
O blissed sowles and happie these that ar vpoun that way,
or yit heirafter ar to cum that iornay to assay,
Or to that end thair lyfes addres on which I do indyte,
and with such zeale and feruencie thairof dois speak and wryte!

And thair amongs these glorious sancts and Pilgrims she sal be
whome death afore hir dayes defaist and maid vntymelie die;
Than salbe sene before these sancts hir angelict discourse,
hir honest wordis, hir chaistfull thoughts of honestie the sourse,
All which Dame nature to hir praise, to mak hir more be graist,
within hir young and tendar hart for honour had implaist.
These faces fair that tyme with death had so distroyed and slane
sall to thair flooruishing state returne bak agane,
Whair then the visage of my dame most hevinlie salbe sene,
whose loyall lowe so long a space did so me bound detene.

And for that euerie thing sall be vnto the sanctis maid knowen,
so thair sall I amongs that band whome lowe hes so ourthrowen

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Be pointed at with all thair handis, and euerie one sall say:
“beholde the man for Lauras saik that plaind both night and day,
Yit notwithstanding all his plaints, his woe, his doole, his noy,
he happier Is than anye man that hes enioyed more Ioy.”
And than to hir of whome I wryte and wepinglie dois sing,
my constant fayith and loyall hart great wounder sall inbring,
And mak hir merwell at hir selff, when all that hevinlie rowt
sall hawe thair toungs, and all thair voyce furth in hir prais brek owt.
Quhen this salbe I know not well, bot Laura weill dois ken,
for that the credeit of these thingis belongs vnto these men
And wemen who are of that trowpe and cumpanie elect,
companions with the fayithfull flok whom god with crownis hes deckt.
Bot sen these secreatis secreit be, who thairto can attane,
or who sall then dissolwe this doubt, or gif ane answer plane?
bot yit so far as mortall men coniecteur may or gess,
evin as the day dois neir approche, so dois the world wax less;

Quhair than the conscience of all men sall giwe a iust account
bothe of thair fals and iustest gane before his throne and mount,
Quhair thay thair laubouris, panes, and workis, and trawellis all sall sie
the instrumentis vnto thair wrak and spyders webbs to be;
Thair sall they lykwise sie and know how presentlie in vane
thay plundge thame selfis in vanest cairs to conqueiss worldlie gane,
And how to long, most folishlye, they tyre thame selfs and sweat,
when so in end they sall perceawe thame troumpet by deceat.
And at that tyme and on that day no secreit sall be than
To cower or close, to hyde or shute, the hartis & thoughts of man,

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Bot euerie conscience than sall be dark, duskish, or ellis cleir,
and naked sal before the world and opned than appeir;
And than that glorious god and Iudge, who weill these thingis do knaw,
pronunce sall then his Iudgementis iust and sentence furthe sall shaw,
Whair after It the godles men sall tak thame to thair way,
as dois the wyld dispersed beasts, whome houndis dois putt in fray,
Returne with speid vnto the woods to hyde thame in thair hole,
so wicked men sall haist to hellis, thair for thair sins to thole;
And at that tyme thair salbe sene, and on that tryall day,
possessionis earthlye, ratches greit, and glorye without stay,
High digniteis, and Princelie Pompe, to which men did attane,
no proffeit nor yit glorye bring bot rather loss than gane.

Bot on the other syid, the iust whom god hes tane to grace
salbe vpliftit to the heavinis and thair beholde his face,
For thay did brydle so thair willis, and vsed thair fortoun so,
that it was reinȝed with modestie and did not higher go;
Whair thay sall ioy in happines and in eternall bliss,
but pompe or pryde or glorye vane that so men leadis amiss.

These Triumphs fywe we on this earth hawe sene thame bothe and knowen,
The sax, when it sall pleis our god, sall ws abowe be showen,
Whair tyme that all thingis dois vndoe and bringis vnto ane end,
and greadie death that in hir rage dois on hir pray intend,
Sall both togeather be defaist, and bothe to death be brought,
who by the force of thair impyre suche spoyle on all hes wrought.
Bot these who mereitis lasting Fame, though quhill they liwed heir
Tyme with despyte conseuminge It did waiste away and weir,

133

And these fair lookes and bewtye brawe, that gallant sight and hew
That death and tyme did palish mak, sall brawe agane renew;
Obliuioun and suche vglie sights, so hideous, horrible, sad,
salbe agane to thame restored, so felloun and so mad;
and in a far more fresher age our soules sall than reclame
Immortall bewtye ay to last with long eternall fame.

Wheare then afore all other folk in that eternall glore,
Ma donna Laura, ladye fair, sall formost be before,
Whome now this world dois with his plaintis and with my toung requyre,
and with my weryed Pen to sie dois earnistlye desyre;
The heavinis likwyse dois earnistlie prease to hawe the same,
that they may hir whole ioyned inioy vnto hir former frame.
Thair Is a floode from Giben flowes vpone whose bank and syde
thair lowe so long a lasting woe did vnto me prowyde,
The memorie whairof, alas, dois make me yit to shrink,
so that I tremble night and day and fantis thairon to think.

O blissed stone! o happie grawe, that dois within inclose
the fairest face of feminine, yea, of the world the chose!
If I was happie than estemed, or Iudge my self than blist,
when I on earth beheld thy corpss, or Death hath cutt the twist
That did Prolong thy glorious lyfe, whois wrak dois work my woe,
and causis so my sore lamentis my pleasouris to ourthroe,
When sall I be when I sall sie the in the heavinis decord
with glorye, and thy glorious corpss vnto hir soule restord?