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A gorgious Gallery, of gallant Inuentions

Garnished and decked with diuers dayntie deuises, right delicate and delightfull, to recreate eche modest minde withall. First framed and fashioned in sundrie formes, by diuers worthy workemen of late dayes: and now, ioyned together and builded up: By T. P. [i.e. Thomas Procter]

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The Louer in distresse exclaymeth agaynst Fortune.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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The Louer in distresse exclaymeth agaynst Fortune.

How can the criple get, in running race the game?
Or hee in fight defend himselfe, whose armes are broken lame?
How can th' imprisoned man whose legs be wrapt in chaynes,
Thinke this his life a pleasant time, who knoweth nothing but paines?
So how can I reioyse, that haue no pleasant thing,
That may reuiue my doulfull sprits, or cause mee for to singe.
My legs be lame to goe, mine armes cannot embrace,
My hart is sore, mine eyes bee blinde, for lacke of Fortunes grace.
All this is Fortunes fault, that keepes these sences so,
Shee may aduaunce them if shee list, and rid them of this wo.
It is her cruell will, alwayes on mee to lower,
To kepe frō mee her pleasant giftes, to make mee know her power
Alas, alas, fie Fortune, fie: why art thou so vnkinde,
To mee that fayne would bee thy sonne, and euer in thy minde?
Now doo I thee beseech, with pleasures mee to frayght,
To temper this my wofull life, or els to kill mee strayght.
FINIS.