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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Verses giuen the Quenes highnesse at windsor.

My penne doeth quake in tremblyng hande, as harte discouraged weare,
My mewes me failes, my sences blushe, my skill creepes backe for feare:
To write the verse that duetie crau's, O Lodestarre clere of light,
Whose beautie dims the Son by daie, & darks the Moone by night.
Thou wretched mā call home those works, yt carelesse bore thy name
And sift the purest of those lines, this verse of newe to frame:
You Poets all of this ripe age, who hath the cunnyng braines,
Come moist my drie & dulled pen, with your sweete flowyng vaines.
For I write not of yearthly mould, this is some sparke deuine,
The selfsame Goddes as I gesse, pleased Parris eyne:
Yea Pallas witte, and Iunoes praise, this Uenus leades awaie,
Th'aple of gold she hath possest, in scorne of who saie naie.
Praise not your ladies where she comes, ye courtiers for your liues,
Boste not in little flowryng Nimphs, in maids ne married wiues:
Except you minde to answere this, before hye Ioue in Skyes,
Whose Iustice will giue sentence sure, against your blinded eyes.
A sacred Queene, a stately port, what neede I cloke it more,
Hath won the fame of beauties boste, when she least lokes therefore:
And least acount of beautie makes, for loe full deepe in breste,
Her vertues blome, her gifts doe budde, her heauenly graces rest.
Whiche is the marke my pen shotes at, if witte maie bring about,
To spread her sutche eternall fame, as worlde shall nere wipe out:
A further gift shall tyme vnfolde, if this maie fauour finde,
As statelier stile, and higher verse, shall serue the makers minde.
After this was deliuered, all my deuises and showes in progra-
ses euery where, attended to no other purpose, but for the hono-
ryng of her highnesse moste excellent vertues.

Finis.

University of Virginia Library

Verses giuen the Quenes highnesse at windsor.