A New Yeares Gifte, dedicated to the Popes Holinesse and all Catholikes addicted to the Sea of Rome: preferred the first day of Ianuarie, in the yeare of our Lorde God, after the course and computation of the Romanistes, one thousand, fiue hundreth, seauentie and nine, by B. G. [i.e. Bernard Garter]... In recompence of diuers singular and inestimable Reliques, of late sent by the said Popes Holinesse into England, the true figures and representations whereof, are heereafter in their places dilated |
 |
|
|
|
And now to the merrie miracles of the holy Mayde of Kent.
|
|
 | A New Yeares Gifte, dedicated to the Popes Holinesse |  |
And now to the merrie miracles of the holy Mayde of Kent.
By
protestation first I warne thee note,
Some Papist Priest bewitched in the Pope,
By cunning help did make this craftie coate
To hide the troth, and had or was in hope,
To haue therfore the custodie and gayne
Of some lewde Sainct, to counteruayle his payne.
Some Papist Priest bewitched in the Pope,
By cunning help did make this craftie coate
To hide the troth, and had or was in hope,
To haue therfore the custodie and gayne
Of some lewde Sainct, to counteruayle his payne.
And gayne thou knowst will make the carelesse man
To stretch a string, and countermand a truth,
And Papistes do, and haue done what they can
By Masking meanes, to bring this Realme to ruth.
What lets them then to make or sell a lye,
So they themselues haue secret gayne thereby?
To stretch a string, and countermand a truth,
And Papistes do, and haue done what they can
By Masking meanes, to bring this Realme to ruth.
What lets them then to make or sell a lye,
So they themselues haue secret gayne thereby?
But yet I thinke he was a merrie man,
For euery wonder breedes a prettie iest,
Of which my selfe so playnely as I can
Will shew thee part, gesse thou but at the rest:
For tempted sore the Mayden saith she was,
And Women weake must sometime yeelde alas.
For euery wonder breedes a prettie iest,
Of which my selfe so playnely as I can
Will shew thee part, gesse thou but at the rest:
For tempted sore the Mayden saith she was,
And Women weake must sometime yeelde alas.
The first Miracle. Candels vvere lighted vvithout fire.
The Candle ment is euen hir tender hartWhich Edward Bocking set on flaming fire,
For he must play the ghostly fathers part,
And shrift was such, as they did both desire.
The place was apt, they toke their times by night.
I thinke I haue resolvde this riddle right.
The seconde Miracle. Womens brestes vvere moystned, vvhich before were drie and wanted milke.
The Lady which at VValsingham did stande,Had grace also to worke the like effect:
For in hir time a thousand in this lande.
Did seeke to hir that sicknesse to correct,
And seeking founde, and had their ful desier:
By Pylgrisme, Priest, by Monke, or else by Frier.
The thirde Miracle. The sicke vvere restored to perfect helth.
It followeth still to ratifie the same,The breast hath milke, which else had stil bene drie,
Such women then had greatly bin to blame
If they praisde not their Pilgrimage pardie,
The cause wherof was not to gather welth,
But for to haue, which there they had, their health.
The fourth Miracle. The dead vvas restored to life.
The pensiue soule, which was ful sad at home,And dead through care, by meanes of watching eye:
Did by this cloke abrode, as Pilgrysme rome,
And found the mate, which in the hart did lye.
And thus, the harte which was starke deade before,
To life againe this Mayden did restore.
The fifth and last Miracle. Finally, al good vvas done to those vvhich were measured and vowed to hir in Courte of Streete.
The vowe and measure made to hir you see,
Did neuer fayle to finde a perfect meede,
For mayde, or wife, or widdowe that it bee,
That cōmes to hir, are certaine for to speede:
The well of life so mightily did spring,
As they were spedde in euery kinde of thing.
Did neuer fayle to finde a perfect meede,
For mayde, or wife, or widdowe that it bee,
That cōmes to hir, are certaine for to speede:
The well of life so mightily did spring,
As they were spedde in euery kinde of thing.
If she were wife, hir husband was not sad,
That barren bedde had brought him forth a childe:
The wanton wife could laugh with hart as glad,
To see the man so willingly beguilde:
The Widowe and the Mayde cannot misteeke,
Since they do finde the very thing they seeke.
That barren bedde had brought him forth a childe:
The wanton wife could laugh with hart as glad,
To see the man so willingly beguilde:
The Widowe and the Mayde cannot misteeke,
Since they do finde the very thing they seeke.
And where before they serued but for droyle,
Hereby they finde a much more better lucke,
They lay aside their labour and their toyle,
And sit ful soft to giue an infant sucke:
A thousand ways yong women may do wursse,
Than change their toyle, to be a Merchaunts nursse.
Hereby they finde a much more better lucke,
They lay aside their labour and their toyle,
And sit ful soft to giue an infant sucke:
A thousand ways yong women may do wursse,
Than change their toyle, to be a Merchaunts nursse.
And thus, all good you see was fully done,
To those were vowde and measured to hir,
The riddle is resolude, thou needst not runne
A further course, nor once thy compasse stir,
An Oracle to finde of more effect,
For truth is troth, and voyde of all suspect.
To those were vowde and measured to hir,
The riddle is resolude, thou needst not runne
A further course, nor once thy compasse stir,
An Oracle to finde of more effect,
For truth is troth, and voyde of all suspect.
Finis.
| A New Yeares Gifte, dedicated to the Popes Holinesse | |