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To his frende that breake his promise.

Eleg. 7.

The freshe flouds shal from Seas retyre, againe their springs vnto,
So shal the sonne wyth horses tournd, his course reuoke also.
The earth shal eke the bright starre beare, & ayre the plow shal cleue,
The water shal bringe forth the flames, and fyre shall water geue.
All things shal now by natures lawes, in order straunge proceade,
No part and of this wandring world, his way aright shall leade.
All thinges shal come to passe which I, denyed afore could bee.
For nothing is so straung to heare, but we may hope to see.
It shall be so I gesse because, of him I am reiecte,
Whose helpe I hoped now that should, my wofull cause protecte.
O faythlesse frende how came so great, forgetfulnes of mee,
Why were thou then so sore afrayd, my carefull corpes to see?
That once againe thou might not loke, nor comfort me opprest.
Nor yet (harde hart) my funerals, pursue among the rest.
The sacrede name of frendshippe fayre, that all men do adore,
Under thy foote thou lettest lye, as thing of litle store.
And though thou did no teares let fall, for this my sorrye plight,
Yet far from hart some words to say, with fayned griefe thou might.
At lest wyse that which straungers did, then did we wel to fare,
With peoples voyce and publike speache, agree that goodwill bare.
And then that face with morning fret, no more in sight tappere,
Whyle yet thou mightest to loke vpon, the last day I was there.
To take and geue wyth talke alike, our farewel in such case,
Which once we might and then no more, while world endures embrace.
As others mo which with no league, of frendshippe I had bound,
Who then declarde their griefe of minde, with trickling teares on ground.
Where els should I to the be knit, wyth life in common led,
With causes eke of great effect, and loue in long time bred.
Why els knewe thou so many bourds, and earnest actes of myne,
And I so manye matters said, and pleasaunt prancks of thyne.
What if alone at royall Rome, our frendship had beene knit,
But thou so oft in euerye place, was cald a fellow fit.
With winsome windes of seas in vayne, haue all these taken flight?
Or els all thinges in Leathe lake, are drounde wyth darcksome night.
I thincke in towne thou were not borne, that Rome of Quirine hight,
A towne alas wherein to come, I maye not woful wight.
But in the rockes which here do lye, on left syde of the Sea,
In croked cragges of Sarmatis, in lande of Sythia.
That in thy hart be heaped highe, of flint the stonye vaynes,
And eke of iron the seedes so hard, wythin thy brest remaynes.
The nourse also which gaue the sucke, through tender mouth to pas,
Wyth fruitful teates when thou wert yonge, vntamed Tyger was.
For els thou would not lesse regard, the heauye happe I beare,
Then straungers ill: nor giltye yet, of rygor rough appeare.
But synce the same my fatall fall, and sorrowes do encrease,
That frendship should in his first time, from dutye doing sease.
Now cause I may forget thy fault, and then I shal againe,
Wyth selfe same tongue thy kindnesse prayse, that I do now complayne.