The Flovver of Fame Containing the bright Renowne, & moste fortunate raigne of King Henry the viii. Wherein is mentioned of matters, by the rest of our Chronographers ouerpassed. Compyled by Ulpian Fulwell. Hereunto is annexed (by the Author) a short treatice of iii. noble and vertuous Queenes. And a discourse of the worthie seruice that was done at Hadington in Scotlande, the seconde yere of the raigne of King Edward the sixt |
The Flovver of Fame | ||
Vlpian Fulwell to his Booke.
When
lustie Ver beginnes to decke
eche bushe and bowe with greene:
And Flora faire in flaunting wise
is gorgeous to be seene:
eche bushe and bowe with greene:
And Flora faire in flaunting wise
is gorgeous to be seene:
Then Natures Impes tryumphes with ioy
till horie Hyemps frowne:
Whose frostie face with blastes bedewde
Turnes all these vpsy downe.
till horie Hyemps frowne:
Whose frostie face with blastes bedewde
Turnes all these vpsy downe.
His stormie stoutnesse dryues the byrdes
their warbling notes to seace:
He keepes as captiue, flowers faire,
till spring do them releace.
their warbling notes to seace:
He keepes as captiue, flowers faire,
till spring do them releace.
Yet can his vysage not preuaile
The Flower of Fame to vade:
Whose growing greene shall not be shutt
in griesely winters shade.
The Flower of Fame to vade:
Whose growing greene shall not be shutt
in griesely winters shade.
As Hedera with hawtie head
doth scorne syr Boreas blast:
Euen so this pierlesse Flower of Fame
shall stande as firme and fast.
doth scorne syr Boreas blast:
Euen so this pierlesse Flower of Fame
shall stande as firme and fast.
Out of which stately Blossom breedes
a Bud of Eglentine
Whose worthinesse adornes the stocke
of natures noble lyne.
a Bud of Eglentine
of natures noble lyne.
Not euery whiffling taunting wynde
that flyes from scornefull tong:
Sall shake the stalke, ne yet the Flower
to do it any wrong.
that flyes from scornefull tong:
Sall shake the stalke, ne yet the Flower
to do it any wrong.
For why (my booke) thy Patrons name
Such noble sownde doth yelde:
That thou maist thinke thy selfe well bleste,
to shrowde vnder his shielde.
Such noble sownde doth yelde:
That thou maist thinke thy selfe well bleste,
to shrowde vnder his shielde.
Before whose feete, wee bothe will lye
and hope such grace to fynde:
That wee with ioye may passe abrode
to please thy Readers mynde.
and hope such grace to fynde:
That wee with ioye may passe abrode
to please thy Readers mynde.
Which thing God graunt.
The Flovver of Fame | ||