A light Bondell of liuly discourses called Churchyards Charge presented as a Newe yeres gifte to the right honourable, the Earl of Surrie, in which Bondell of verses is sutche varietie of matter, and seuerall inuentions, that maie bee as delitefull to the Reader, as it was a Charge and labour to the writer, sette forthe for a peece of pastime, by Thomas Churchyarde |
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Of a mightie greate personage.
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 | A light Bondell of liuly discourses called Churchyards Charge |  |
Of a mightie greate personage.
When Phebus tooke his Purple bedd, to rest from daies disease,Naie seemde to dippe his golden hedde, vnder the Ocean seas:
And faire Lucina ganne to shine, and mount in starrie Skies,
Then crepte the sweete and kindely slepe, a long my slombryng eyes.
And prickt me so to take a napp, that as in coutche I laie,
I dreampt that Natures little babes, about my bedde gan plaie:
And bad me rise, and vewe a worke, that kinde a newe would frame,
For that she thought bothe gods & men, would help to forge the same
You speake but like yong girles quoth I, she hath all ready doen,
Sutche works as now her hands would misse, if thei were vnbegon:
With that dame Nature had, I spide with angrie visage redde,
And in her furie satte her doune, full right against my bedde.
Why foole quod she is Nature not, so perfite of her skill,
That she can giue to fleshe and fell, what shape and forme she will:
Thou seest eche woorkman finer growes, eche wit doeth riper ware,
And knowledge can amende at full, the faults where cunnyng lacks.
The Goldsmith and the Caruer bothe, and all that works with toole,
Doe mende their hands and daiely are, vp Nature set to schoole:
The Princes pallace made of old, lookes like a sheepe coat now,
So if this tyme and Nature liste, to shewe their connyng throw.
Wee can set forthe a Candle blase, beyond the shinyng Sonne,
And take the light frō twinkling starrs, whiles Moone her cours shal ron:
Can I not call for Beautie whom, that I haue lent at large,
Haue not the hye immortall Gods, giu'n Beautie to my charge.
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And worke this yearthly drosse againe, vnto a finer trade:
Yes sure saied she, and I therewith, did humble pardon craue,
And at one instaunt by a signe, that mightie Nature gaue.
A thousande woorkmen all with tooles, came thrustyng in a rout,
And eche vnto his labour falls, as tourne doeth come about:
Thei blewe and puft and smoke out sweate, as though in thē did lye,
To shape a mould, or shew through cloude, that Venus dropt frō skie
Haue doen quod Kinde it shalbe thus, too long ye trifle here,
Then Cunnyng by her curious art, deuisde suche collour clere:
That did the ruddie Rose disdaine, and passe the Lilie white,
If that a medley of those twaine, were made to please delite.
The woorkmen in this hastie broile, had raised vp a mould,
And eche one in his office fine, had doen the beste he could:
Now satte thei still in silence sadd, and rested for a space,
With that dame Nature by her skill, set forthe so trimme a face.
That Sonne and Moone and seuen starrs, did seem therein to shine,
In whiche the pleasant gods had plast, a paire of gladsome eyne:
Yea euery God one gift her gaue, as Pallas for her parte,
Possest her with a noble hedde, to iudge or talke by arte.
And Iuno made request to Ioue, that Uenus Queene of Loue,
Should neuer with false fonde desiers, her modest maners moue:
Dan Cupid brake a bowe for ioye, when this faire dame was made,
In signe ye she we Dians Nimphes, should walke in grenewood shade
The silly woorkmen seyng this, that seruaunts were to Kinde,
Trust vp their tooles and stole awaie, yet left the mould behinde:
Whiche as I gesse of diuers stones, was wrought by deepe deuice,
For therein Iazings might you see, and pearles of passyng price.
The Rubbie ritche, and pretie sparkes, of Diamonds clere & bright,
The Emerald greene, and Margarets faire, & Turkes blew to sight
Whose vertues passeth farre my penne, or yet my tong to tell,
Demaunde ye that of skilfull men, that knowes their Natures well
Loe foolishe man, loe here thou dolte, quod Kinde to me aloude,
How saiest thou is not this new worke, more faire then star in cloude
Doeth not this worke make all thē blusse, yt I haue wrought before,
Yea sure, for Nature is in minde, to make the like no more.
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And eche one to their daiely toiles, gan busily repaire:
So rose I vp and rold in thought, where this faire wight doeth dwel,
And at the length I founde in deede, I knewe the worthy well.
FINIS.
| A light Bondell of liuly discourses called Churchyards Charge | |