The Rocke of Regard diuided into foure parts. The first, the Castle of delight: Wherein is reported, the wretched end of wanton and dissolute liuing. The second, the Garden of Vnthriftinesse: Wherein are many sweete flowers, (or rather fancies) of honest loue. The thirde, the Arbour of Vertue: Wherein slaunder is highly punished, and vertuous Ladies and Gentlewomen, worthily commended. The fourth, the Ortchard of Repentance: Wherein are discoursed, the miseries that followe dicing, the mischiefes of quareling, the fall of prodigalitie: and the souden ouerthrowe of foure notable cousners, with diuers other morall, natural, & tragical discourses: documents and admonitions being all the inuention, collection and translation of George Whetstons |
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P. Plasmos in praise of his Purse.
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 | The Rocke of Regard |  |
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P. Plasmos in praise of his Purse.
Come prettie purse, the iewell of my ioy,The daintie soile, wherein delight is sowen,
Thou well deseru'st the title of a Ioy,
Who doth not feare, whereas thy force is knowen?
Who dare rebell, where thou dost rule and reigne?
Thou foylest kinges, by force of treason vile,
Thou clokest craft, with flattrie, feare or gaine,
When Iustice should vncase his crooked guile.
By thee escapes the traytour and the theefe,
The murdrous mate, which languisht late in woe,
Thou werst to ebb, their tossing tydes of greefe,
And graftest myrth, where mone but late did growe.
To maske with pride, thou art a visard fitt,
Thou heau'st him vp, which held the plough of late,
Thou telst his tale, which wants both Art and witt.
Thou wodcocke setst, before the wise estate,
The wilie churle, which wronges the wretch full oft,
The cousening mate whose mischiefe neuer endes,
Should sol fa singe in couseners cliffe aloft.
But that thou cloakst their craft with wealthie friends,
The thriftlesse childe by thee doth looke full hie,
Whose sparing friends at home the plough doth hold,
In Court thou art the badge of brauerie.
Who doth not fawne on gentle maister gold?
Deformed girles, by thee are made full faire,
Dame Venus stoupes through thee to Vulcans lure,
The coffing churle, doth match with beauties heire.
Such straunge consents can Lady Coyne procure,
Why stay I then, sweete purse thee to embrace?
Whose ayde I vsde, when fortune most did lowre,
My clowdes of scare, thou cleardst with gleames of grace,
My bale to blisse, to sweete, thou chaungst my sowre,
Thou sau'dst my life, with passing loue nie pinde,
Which friendly turnes, are written in my minde.
| The Rocke of Regard | |