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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[O needlesse fruit (of sinne the meane at first)] |
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 | The Rocke of Regard |  |
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[O needlesse fruit (of sinne the meane at first)]
O needlesse
fruit (of sinne the meane at first)
Thou forcedst Eue, and Adam didst intice,
To byte their bale, for which the earth was curst,
And headlong they, from vertue fell to vice,
Thou wert the baite, that Paris gaue the Dame,
Who in reward, set stately Troy aflame.
Thou forcedst Eue, and Adam didst intice,
To byte their bale, for which the earth was curst,
And headlong they, from vertue fell to vice,
Thou wert the baite, that Paris gaue the Dame,
Who in reward, set stately Troy aflame.
Thou didst conuey, the louing write that woode,
Dianas nymphe, from chaste, to foule desire,
By thee too soone, I (wretched) vnderstoode,
Gilettas scorne, that chaung'd her loue to yre,
And not content, but when my woes were dead,
With former cares, thou combrest fresh my head.
Dianas nymphe, from chaste, to foule desire,
By thee too soone, I (wretched) vnderstoode,
Gilettas scorne, that chaung'd her loue to yre,
And not content, but when my woes were dead,
With former cares, thou combrest fresh my head.
O enuious fruit, in whom few vertues are,
Thy shew is all, but who so on thee feedes,
Shall hardly finde, thee helpe, but health impaire:
Then sith to man, such plagues thy beautie breedes,
Would God thy guilt, vpon each apple tree,
Igrauen were, for euery eye to see.
Thy shew is all, but who so on thee feedes,
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Then sith to man, such plagues thy beautie breedes,
Would God thy guilt, vpon each apple tree,
Igrauen were, for euery eye to see.
Roberto Rinaldo.
| The Rocke of Regard | |