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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A generall Commendation of Gentilitie.
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 | The Worthines of Wales |  |
A generall Commendation of Gentilitie.
Nere
Wricksam dwels, of Gentlemen good store,
Of calling such, as are right well to liue:
By Market towne, I haue not seene no more,
(In such small roume) that auncient Armes doe giue.
They are the ioye, and gladnesse of the poore,
That dayly feedes, the hungrie at their doore:
In any Soyle, where Gentlemen are found,
Some house is kept, and bountie doth abound.
Of calling such, as are right well to liue:
By Market towne, I haue not seene no more,
(In such small roume) that auncient Armes doe giue.
In Maylor, are all these Gentlemen. Maister Roger Pilsons house at Itchlay. Maister Almmer at Pantyokin. Maister Iohn Pilson of Bersan. Maister Edward Iones of Cadoogan. Maister Iames Eaton of Eatton. Maister Edward Eaton by Ruabon. Maister Owen Brueton of Borras. Maister Iohn Pilson of Haberdewerne. Maister Thomas Powell of Horsley. Maister Iohn Treuar of Treuolin. A generall praise of all Gentlemen inhabiting of any Countrey.
That dayly feedes, the hungrie at their doore:
In any Soyle, where Gentlemen are found,
Some house is kept, and bountie doth abound.
They beautifie, both Towne and Countrey too,
And furnisht are, to serue at neede in feeld:
And euery thing, in rule and order do,
And vnto God, and man due honour yeeld.
They are the strength, and suretie of the Land,
In whose true hearts, doth trust and credit stand,
By whose wise heads, the neighbours ruled are,
In whom the Prince, reposeth greatest care.
And furnisht are, to serue at neede in feeld:
And euery thing, in rule and order do,
And vnto God, and man due honour yeeld.
They are the strength, and suretie of the Land,
In whose true hearts, doth trust and credit stand,
By whose wise heads, the neighbours ruled are,
In whom the Prince, reposeth greatest care.
They are the flowers, of euery garden ground,
For where they want, there growes but wicked weedes:
Their tree and fruite, in rotten world is sownd,
Their noble mynds, will bring foorth faithfull deedes:
Their glorie rests, in Countries wealth and fame,
They haue respect, to blood and auncient name:
They weigh nothing, so much as loyall hart,
Which is most pure, and cleane in euery part.
For where they want, there growes but wicked weedes:
Their tree and fruite, in rotten world is sownd,
Their noble mynds, will bring foorth faithfull deedes:
Their glorie rests, in Countries wealth and fame,
They haue respect, to blood and auncient name:
They weigh nothing, so much as loyall hart,
Which is most pure, and cleane in euery part.
They doe vphold, all ciuill maners myld,
All manly acts, all wise and worthie waies:
If they were not, the Countrey would grow wyld,
And we should soone, forget our elders daies:
Waxe blunt of wit, in speech growe rude and rough,
Want vertue still, and haue of vice enough.
Shewe feeble spreete, lacke courage euery where,
Dout many a thing, and our owne shadowes feare.
All manly acts, all wise and worthie waies:
If they were not, the Countrey would grow wyld,
And we should soone, forget our elders daies:
Waxe blunt of wit, in speech growe rude and rough,
Want vertue still, and haue of vice enough.
Shewe feeble spreete, lacke courage euery where,
Dout many a thing, and our owne shadowes feare.
They dare attempt, for fame and hye renowne,
To scale the Clowdes, if men might clyme the ayre:
Assault the Starres, and plucke the Planets downe,
Giue charge on Moone, and Sunne that shines so fayre.
I meane they dare, attempt the greatest things,
Flye swiftly ore, high Hilles if they had wings:
Beate backe the Seas, and teare the Mountaines too,
Yea what dare not, a man of courage doo.
To scale the Clowdes, if men might clyme the ayre:
Assault the Starres, and plucke the Planets downe,
Giue charge on Moone, and Sunne that shines so fayre.
Flye swiftly ore, high Hilles if they had wings:
Beate backe the Seas, and teare the Mountaines too,
Yea what dare not, a man of courage doo.
Now must I turne, to my discourse agayne,
I Wricksam leaue, and pen out further place:
So if my muse, were now in pleasant vayne,
Holt Castle should, from verse receiue some grace:
The Seate is fine, and trimly buylt about,
With lodgings fayre, and goodly roumes throughout,
Strong Uaults and Caues, and many an old deuice,
That in our daies, are held of worthie price.
I Wricksam leaue, and pen out further place:
So if my muse, were now in pleasant vayne,
Holt Castle should, from verse receiue some grace:
The Seate is fine, and trimly buylt about,
With lodgings fayre, and goodly roumes throughout,
Strong Uaults and Caues, and many an old deuice,
That in our daies, are held of worthie price.
That place must passe, with praise and so adue,
My muse is bent, (and pen is readie prest)
To feede your eares, with other matters newe,
That yet remaines, in head and labouring brest.
A Mountaine towne, that is Thlangothlan calde,
A pretie Seate, but not well buylt nor walde,
Stands in the way, to Yale and Writhen both,
Where are great Hilles, and Plaines but fewe for truth.
My muse is bent, (and pen is readie prest)
To feede your eares, with other matters newe,
That yet remaines, in head and labouring brest.
A Mountaine towne, that is Thlangothlan calde,
A pretie Seate, but not well buylt nor walde,
Stands in the way, to Yale and Writhen both,
Where are great Hilles, and Plaines but fewe for truth.
Of Mountaines now, in deede my muse must runne,
The Poets there, did dwell as fables fayne:
Because some say, they would be neere the Sunne,
And taste sometymes, the frost, the cold, and rayne,
To iudge of both, which is the chiefe and best.
Who knowes no toyle, can neuer skill of rest,
Who alwaies walkes, on carpet soft and gay,
Knowes not hard Hilles, nor likes the Mountaine way.
The Poets there, did dwell as fables fayne:
Because some say, they would be neere the Sunne,
And taste sometymes, the frost, the cold, and rayne,
To iudge of both, which is the chiefe and best.
Who knowes no toyle, can neuer skill of rest,
Who alwaies walkes, on carpet soft and gay,
Knowes not hard Hilles, nor likes the Mountaine way.
| The Worthines of Wales | |