The Worthines of Wales Wherein are more then a thousand seuerall things rehearsed: some set out in prose to the pleasure of the Reader, and with such varietie of verse for the beautifying of the Book, as no doubt shal delight thousands to vnderstand. Which worke is enterlarded with many wonders and right strange matter to consider of: All the which labour and deuice is drawne forth and set out by Thomas Churchyard, to the glorie of God, and honour of his Prince and Countrey |
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An Introduction to bring in Denbighshiere.
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 | The Worthines of Wales |  |
An Introduction to bring in Denbighshiere.
Hath
slouth and sleepe, bewitcht my sences so,
That head cannot, awake the ydle hand:
Is frendly muse, become so great a foe,
That labring pen, in pennor still shall stand.
What trifeling toye, doth trouble writers brayne,
That earnest loue, forgets sweete Poets vayne?
Bid welcome mirth, and sad conceytes adue,
And fall againe, to write some matter newe.
That head cannot, awake the ydle hand:
Is frendly muse, become so great a foe,
That labring pen, in pennor still shall stand.
What trifeling toye, doth trouble writers brayne,
That earnest loue, forgets sweete Poets vayne?
And fall againe, to write some matter newe.
Let old deuice, a Lanterne be to this,
To giue skill light, and make sound iudgement see:
Since gazing eyes, hath seene what each thing is,
And that no Towne, nor Soyle is hid from thee:
Set foorth in verse, as well this Countrey here,
As thou at large, hast set out Monmouthshiere:
Praise one alone, the rest will thee disdaine,
A day may come, at length to quite thy paine.
To giue skill light, and make sound iudgement see:
Since gazing eyes, hath seene what each thing is,
And that no Towne, nor Soyle is hid from thee:
Set foorth in verse, as well this Countrey here,
As thou at large, hast set out Monmouthshiere:
Praise one alone, the rest will thee disdaine,
A day may come, at length to quite thy paine.
Though former toyles, be lost in Sommer last,
Dispayre not now, for Wales is thankfull still:
Thou hast gon farre, the greatest brunt is past,
Then forward passe, and plucke not backe goodwill,
Put hand to Plough, like man goe through with all,
Thy ground is good, run on thou canst not fall:
When seede is sowne, and tyme bestowes some paine,
Thou shalt be knowne, a reaper of good graine.
Dispayre not now, for Wales is thankfull still:
Thou hast gon farre, the greatest brunt is past,
Then forward passe, and plucke not backe goodwill,
Put hand to Plough, like man goe through with all,
Thy ground is good, run on thou canst not fall:
When seede is sowne, and tyme bestowes some paine,
Thou shalt be knowne, a reaper of good graine.
Hold on thy course, and trauaile Wales all ore,
And whet thy wits, to marke and note it well:
And thou shalt see, thou neuer saw'st before,
Right goodly things, in deede that doth excell:
More auncient Townes, more famous Castles old,
Then well farre of, with ease thou mayst behold:
With Denbighshiere, thy second worke begin,
And thou shalt see, what glorie thou shalt win.
And whet thy wits, to marke and note it well:
And thou shalt see, thou neuer saw'st before,
Right goodly things, in deede that doth excell:
More auncient Townes, more famous Castles old,
Then well farre of, with ease thou mayst behold:
With Denbighshiere, thy second worke begin,
And thou shalt see, what glorie thou shalt win.
So I tooke horse, and mounted vp in haste,
From Monmouthshiere, along the coasts I ryde:
When frost and snowe, and wayward winters waste,
Did beate from tree, both leaues and Sommers pryde.
I entred first, at Chirke, right ore a Brooke,
Where staying still, on Countrey well to looke.
A Castle fayre, appeerde to sight of eye,
Whose walles were great, and towers both large and hye.
From Monmouthshiere, along the coasts I ryde:
When frost and snowe, and wayward winters waste,
Did beate from tree, both leaues and Sommers pryde.
I entred first, at Chirke, right ore a Brooke,
Where staying still, on Countrey well to looke.
Whose walles were great, and towers both large and hye.
Full vnderneath, the same doth Keeryock run,
A raging Brooke, when rayne or snowe is greate:
It was some Prince, that first this house begun,
It shewes farre of, to be so braue a Seate.
On side of hill, it stands most trim to vewe,
An old strong place, a Castle nothing newe.
A goodly thing, a princely Pallace yet,
If all within, were throughly furnisht fit.
A raging Brooke, when rayne or snowe is greate:
It was some Prince, that first this house begun,
It shewes farre of, to be so braue a Seate.
On side of hill, it stands most trim to vewe,
An old strong place, a Castle nothing newe.
A goodly thing, a princely Pallace yet,
If all within, were throughly furnisht fit.
Beyond the same, there is a Bridge of stone,
That stands on Dee, a Ritter deepe and swift:
It seemes as it, would riue the Rocks alone,
Or vndermyne, with force the craggie Clift.
To Chester runs, this Riuer all along,
With gushing streame, and roring water strong:
On both the sides, are bankes and hilles good store,
And mightie stones, that makes the Riuer rore.
That stands on Dee, a Ritter deepe and swift:
It seemes as it, would riue the Rocks alone,
Or vndermyne, with force the craggie Clift.
To Chester runs, this Riuer all along,
With gushing streame, and roring water strong:
On both the sides, are bankes and hilles good store,
And mightie stones, that makes the Riuer rore.
It flowes with winde, although no rayne there bee,
And swelles like Sea, with waues and foming flood:
A wonder sure, to see this Riuer Dee,
With winde alone, to waxe so wyld and wood,
Make such a sturre, as water would be mad,
And shewe such life, as though some spreete it had.
A cause there is, a nature for the same,
To bring this flood, in such straunge case and frame.
And swelles like Sea, with waues and foming flood:
A wonder sure, to see this Riuer Dee,
With winde alone, to waxe so wyld and wood,
Make such a sturre, as water would be mad,
And shewe such life, as though some spreete it had.
A cause there is, a nature for the same,
To bring this flood, in such straunge case and frame.
Not farre from this, there stands on little mount,
A right fayre Church, with pillars large and wide:
A monument, therein of good account,
Full finely wrought, amid the Queere I spyde,
A Tombe there is, right rich and stately made,
Where two doth lye, in stone and auncient trade.
The man and wife, with sumptuous sollemne guyse,
In this ritch sort, before the Aulter lyes.
A right fayre Church, with pillars large and wide:
A monument, therein of good account,
Full finely wrought, amid the Queere I spyde,
A Tombe there is, right rich and stately made,
Where two doth lye, in stone and auncient trade.
In this ritch sort, before the Aulter lyes.
His head on crest, and warlike Helmet stayes,
A Lyon blew, on top thereof comes out:
On Lyons necke, along his legges he layes,
Two Gauntlets white, are lying there about.
An auncient Squire, he was and of good race,
As by his Armes, appeeres in many a place:
His house and lands, not farre from thence doth shoe,
His birth and blood, was great right long agoe.
A Lyon blew, on top thereof comes out:
On Lyons necke, along his legges he layes,
Two Gauntlets white, are lying there about.
An auncient Squire, he was and of good race,
As by his Armes, appeeres in many a place:
His house and lands, not farre from thence doth shoe,
His birth and blood, was great right long agoe.
The trimmest glasse, that may in windowe bee,
(Wherein the roote, of Iesse well is wrought)
At Aulter head, of Church now shall you see,
Yea all the glasse, of Church was deerely bought.
(Wherein the roote, of Iesse well is wrought)
At Aulter head, of Church now shall you see,
Yea all the glasse, of Church was deerely bought.
Within two myles, there is a famous thing,
Cal'de Offaes Dyke, that reacheth farre in length:
All kind of ware, the Danes might thether bring,
It was free ground, and cal'de the Britaines strength.
Wats Dyke likewise, about the same was set,
Betweene which two, both Danes and Britaines met,
And trafficke still, but passing bounds by sleight,
The one did take, the other prisner streight.
Cal'de Offaes Dyke, that reacheth farre in length:
All kind of ware, the Danes might thether bring,
It was free ground, and cal'de the Britaines strength.
Wats Dyke likewise, about the same was set,
Betweene which two, both Danes and Britaines met,
And trafficke still, but passing bounds by sleight,
The one did take, the other prisner streight.
Thus foes could meete, (as many tymes they may)
And doe no harme, when profite ment they both:
Good rule and lawe, makes baddest things to stay,
That els by rage, to wretched reuell goeth.
The brutest beasts, that sauage are of kynd,
Together comes, as season is assynde:
The angryest men, that can no friendship byde,
Must ceace from warre, when peace appalles their pride.
And doe no harme, when profite ment they both:
Good rule and lawe, makes baddest things to stay,
That els by rage, to wretched reuell goeth.
The brutest beasts, that sauage are of kynd,
Together comes, as season is assynde:
The angryest men, that can no friendship byde,
Must ceace from warre, when peace appalles their pride.
Now let this goe, and call in haste to minde,
Trim Wricksam Towne, a pearle of Denbighshiere:
In whose fayre Church, a Tombe of stone I finde,
Under a wall, right hand on side of Queere.
On th' other side, one Pilson lyes in graue,
Whose hearse of blacke, sayth he a Tombe shall haue:
In Queere lyes Hope, by Armes of gentle race,
Of function once, a rector in that place.
Trim Wricksam Towne, a pearle of Denbighshiere:
In whose fayre Church, a Tombe of stone I finde,
Under a wall, right hand on side of Queere.
On th' other side, one Pilson lyes in graue,
Whose hearse of blacke, sayth he a Tombe shall haue:
In Queere lyes Hope, by Armes of gentle race,
Of function once, a rector in that place.
But speake of Church, and steeple as I ought,
My pen to base, so fayre a worke to touch:
Within and out, they are so finely wrought,
I cannot praise, the workmanship too much.
But buylt of late, not eight score yeeres agoe,
Not of long tyme, the date thereof doth shoe:
No common worke, but sure a worke most fine,
As though they had, bin wrought by power deuine.
My pen to base, so fayre a worke to touch:
Within and out, they are so finely wrought,
I cannot praise, the workmanship too much.
But buylt of late, not eight score yeeres agoe,
Not of long tyme, the date thereof doth shoe:
No common worke, but sure a worke most fine,
As though they had, bin wrought by power deuine.
The steeple there, in forme is full foure square,
Yet euery way, fiue pinnackles appeere:
Trim Pictures fayre, in stone on outside are,
Made all like waxe, as stone were nothing deere.
The height so great, the breadth so bigge withall,
No peece thereof, is likely long to fall,
A worke that stands, to stayne a number more,
In any age, that hath bin buylt before.
Yet euery way, fiue pinnackles appeere:
Trim Pictures fayre, in stone on outside are,
Made all like waxe, as stone were nothing deere.
The height so great, the breadth so bigge withall,
No peece thereof, is likely long to fall,
A worke that stands, to stayne a number more,
In any age, that hath bin buylt before.
| The Worthines of Wales | |