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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The forsaken louer, pretilie nippeth his Ladies inconstancie,
for that (as he thought) shee matched with his baser in accompt, wherein coulerablie
he discouereth both their names.
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 | The Rocke of Regard |  |
The forsaken louer, pretilie nippeth his Ladies inconstancie, for that (as he thought) shee matched with his baser in accompt, wherein coulerablie he discouereth both their names.
The
Gallie slaue, which still doth stirre the ore,
If haplie hee, his wished hauen espies,
With restlesse toile, doth plie to be on shore,
Haile in a maine, my mates, hee cheerely cries,
But when with rough repulse, from blissefull bay,
Hee is inforst, on seas againe to stray:
If haplie hee, his wished hauen espies,
With restlesse toile, doth plie to be on shore,
Haile in a maine, my mates, hee cheerely cries,
But when with rough repulse, from blissefull bay,
Hee is inforst, on seas againe to stray:
Unhappie wight, then drownde in deepe despaire,
Powres forth his plaintes, with flouds of brackish teares.
With whome I now, do claime a partie share,
Imbarkt in hope, where will the stearne did wylde,
Thy faith was guide, which falsed me beguylde.
Powres forth his plaintes, with flouds of brackish teares.
With whome I now, do claime a partie share,
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Thy faith was guide, which falsed me beguylde.
My sailes of sighes, my tackle framde of trust,
With blisse, and bale, thus armed was my barke,
Now vaunst on high, now throwne downe to ye dust,
Now fraught with ioy, now forst to care and carke,
Yet quiet calme, at length of friendships lore,
Did seeme to guide, my shiuered ship to shore,
With blisse, and bale, thus armed was my barke,
Now vaunst on high, now throwne downe to ye dust,
Now fraught with ioy, now forst to care and carke,
Yet quiet calme, at length of friendships lore,
Did seeme to guide, my shiuered ship to shore,
And entring in, the narrowe brooke of blisse,
Triumph (quoth I) dame Fortune hath the foyle,
The mends is made, that quiteth euery misse,
Aduentrous boy, now reape thy fruits of toyle,
But trust to top, of Fortunes fickle wheele,
Thy faith did slide, and I began to reele.
Triumph (quoth I) dame Fortune hath the foyle,
The mends is made, that quiteth euery misse,
Aduentrous boy, now reape thy fruits of toyle,
But trust to top, of Fortunes fickle wheele,
Thy faith did slide, and I began to reele.
For bitter blastes, of rage, and deepe disdaine,
My ankers lost, my ship so sore they shooke,
That I againe, was glad broad seas to gaine,
To scape the flats, within thy blisselesse brooke,
And whilste in hope, I winde and weather waite,
A baggish banke, I sawe, to passe thy straight.
My ankers lost, my ship so sore they shooke,
That I againe, was glad broad seas to gaine,
To scape the flats, within thy blisselesse brooke,
And whilste in hope, I winde and weather waite,
A baggish banke, I sawe, to passe thy straight.
Agrieud wherat, through hate I houng the lip,
And sayd too true, that waues, and women gree,
Which saues the boate, and spoiles the gallant ship:
So Ladies loue, lightes oft in base degree:
And then I vow'd, from which I will not swarue,
To haunt you both, no more then neede shall serue.
And sayd too true, that waues, and women gree,
Which saues the boate, and spoiles the gallant ship:
So Ladies loue, lightes oft in base degree:
And then I vow'd, from which I will not swarue,
To haunt you both, no more then neede shall serue.
| The Rocke of Regard | |