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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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The Louer being in the Countrie, showeth his good will to his Ladie in the Court.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


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The Louer being in the Countrie, showeth his good will to his Ladie in the Court.

Though corps in Countrie bee,
in Court my countnance is:
My ioy, my care, my lyfe, my death,
mine endlesse bale or blis,
My pleasure, pine, and paine,
my helpe my harme also:
My griping griefe, my greatest gaine,
my friend and eke my fo.
And doubtfull though to some,
to scan this case may seeme,
Yet you I know no wisedome want,
much deeper doubts to deeme.
Wherefore I will omit,
my minde at large to tell:
Lest by the way some watchman lay,
to ring the larome bell.
Such spightfull spiders snares,
I aye doe seeke to shonne:
As not the foolishe flie betraies,
but greater harmes haue done.
Who pufte with poyson strong,
like Momus mates doe still
Some discorde cause and bate in place,
where else might grow good will.

20

But let them worke their worste,
looke what I haue profeste:
If you commaunde I will performe,
I spare to speake the rest.
And so I doe conclude,
and cease my ragged rime:
As he that skill of schoole doth want,
Pernasus mount to clime.