A pleasaunte Laborinth called Churchyardes Chance ::

A pleasaunte Laborinth called Churchyardes Chance

framed on Fancies, uttered with verses, and writtee[n] to giue solace to eury well disposed mynde: wherein not withstanding are many heauie Epitaphes, sad and sorowfull discourses and sutche a multitude of other honest pastymes for the season (and passages of witte) that the reader therein maie thinke his tyme well bestowed. All whiche workes for the pleasure of the worlde, and recreation of the worthie, and dedicated to the right honourable sir Thomas Bromley, Knight, Lorde Chancelour of Englande [by Thomas Churchyard]

Churchyard, Thomas (1520?-1604)

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My Ladie of Lennoyes graces Epitaphe.

An Epitaphe of sir Nicholas Bacon Knight, late Lorde Keeper.

Sir Hugh Pauletts Epitaphe.

Sir VVillyam Courtneis Epitaphe.

Sir VVillyam Pickryngrs Epitaphe.

Maister Hampdens Epitaphe.

My Ladie Baggnalles Epitaphe who died at the Nuerie.

An Epitaphe of one maistres Blunt, The Ladie Pauletts sister.

Maister VValter Archer his Epitaphe, an auncient Borgis of Kilkenie

The Lorde Braies Epitaphe.

Sir Jhon Constables Epitaphe.

The phantasticall Monarkes Epitaphe.

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Of the fickle faithe of men.

Of a Flatterer and a Backbiter.

A good description of a freende.

A warnyng from Courte.

Of a Courtiers life, and how the worst sorte findes beste Fortune.

Of woordes spoken by a greate personage.

A description of Desire.

Of a vicious woman.

Of vnsounde freendes.

A matter of fonde Cupid, and vain Venus.

This showes the vanitie of some hopes.

The meetyng of twoo noble knightes of the Garter (sir Henry Sidney, and the Erle of Essex) in Irelande, twoo miles beyond Dradath the xxj, of September, and 17 yere in the raigne of our souerain ladie Quene Elizabeth.

Of my Lorde cheef Baron that was.

Of a noble personage.

A letter in Maie, sent to Maister Henry Knowles house at Gobbyns.

Of the want of will.

Of twoo vertuous sisters.

Translated out of Latine.

A discription of the goodnesse that growes in Cicilia.

A matter of repulce, goyng to the Sea.

Of one that for vertues sake honored a freend.

VVritten from the Countrey twentie yere agoe, to one that poorely remaines at the Courte yet.

Of an iniurie by faunyng freendes.

Of the quietnesse that plaine Countrey bryngeth.

Of a fearfull Dreame.

Of a harde worlde.

Made against Idell and vain Rimes.

Of the vanitie of youth.

VVritten of a gentleman, whose name is in the verses.

Non est fides super terram.

Of a disdainfull persone.

A letter to maister Cressie.

A speciall trifle on a fickle woman.

Uerses written on the Muster that was made by the Pensioners before the Queene.

VVritten of the Queene, when her highnesse was in trouble.

Verses giuen the Quenes highnesse at windsor.

A Newe yeres gift to the Erle of Ormond, giuen at Kilkennie, when the Erle of Essex was in Irelande.

A touche stone to trie an error from a trothe.

For the losse of a mightie and noble mannes fauour.

Verses that were giuen to the Quenes maiestie.

A rebuke to vaine louers.

Of fained frendshippe.

Uerses that weare giuen to a moste mightie personage.

The louers of the worlde.

Of a noble mynde.

Of doubtfull hope.

Of the flantyng worlde.

Of a fantasticall dreame taken out of Petrarke.

A fancie as an answere to that dreame.

A fantasie on fifteene woordes, endyng all in one letter.

Of the strong and the weake.

Of Youth and Age.

Of the short estate of man.

The praise of mistres Mabell Browne, wherein vertue is honoured.

Of wandryng and gaddyng abroad.

Of faire thynges and foule, where in a vertuous Ladie is sette out.

Of an enemie.

VVritten in the beginnyng of Kyng Edwardes raigne, whiche verses are called Dauie Dicars Dreame.

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Of woordes spoken by a greate personage.

I liue that dieth eurie howre, my glasse is nere hande ronne,
I fall awaie as doeth a flowre, that withers in the Sonne:
O death dispatche my dolefull daies, defar no tyme here in,
Good Lachis make thou no delaies, my fatal threde to spin.
Thou Clarke I saie, that for thy fee, dooth ryng the carefull knell,
Now let me haue some helpe of thee, to tolle my passyng bell.

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If by the waie I maie prouoke, to shorten now my life,
This hande of myne shall strike the stroke, ye sone shall stint my strife:
I muse why God did me create, and breathd life in my breste,
And brought me vp to this estate, that nere enioyed no reste.
Why was I fed with milke so oft, and pampred vp so long,
Why was I rockt and laied so softe, and lullde with many a song:
Why was not I vntymely borne, when Nature had me wrought,
That liueth thus as man forlorne, and still consumes with thought.
The Midwife might haue eas'd all this, if strangled had I bin,
Then had my soule been saffe in blis, that now lyes dround in sin.
But looke what God assignde is doen, what should I reason more,
O Lorde my God what hast thou won, in plagyng me so sore:
What honour canst thou haue by me, what glorie canst thou haue,
What seruice can I doe to thee, that wisheth thus my grave.
And in this plite to dye thou knowest, so farre from quiet frame,
Before I should yeeld vp the ghost, I might blaspheme thy name:
The worlde disdains to see my wealth, the heauens on me froune,
The yearth and aire denies me health, and Fortune keeps me doune.
The daie I driue awaie with care, the night I waile and weepe,
The sighes & sobs that comes vnware, doeth wake me in my slepe:
The foode that should my life sustaine, I finde therein small taste,
My blood dries vp in eurie vaine, loe how I weare and waste.
Thus eurie thing doeth change his kinde, to worke my woe you see,
And nothyng seru's me to my minde, I fall in sutche degree:
Would God my graue, were ready found, my shroudyng shete & al,
And dreadfull Death were surely bounde, to come when I doe call.

Finis.

University of Virginia Library

Of woordes spoken by a greate personage.