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 louer in praise of his Ladie.
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 | The Rocke of Regard |  |
The louer in praise of his Ladie.
Apelles, O, thou famous Greeke,
Thy praise vnto my eares doth sounde,
Since thou so farre abroade didst seeke,
In countries through the world so rounde,
Till thou hadst drawen forth Venus shape,
Whose beautie past, Syr Paris rape.
Thy praise vnto my eares doth sounde,
Since thou so farre abroade didst seeke,
In countries through the world so rounde,
Till thou hadst drawen forth Venus shape,
Whose beautie past, Syr Paris rape.
O that thy fortune had beene such,
To light whereas, my Lady liues,
Whose glistering beautie, is so much,
As to thinke on, my heart it ryues,
For Venus shee doth passe as farre,
As doth the Sunne, each shyning starre.
To light whereas, my Lady liues,
Whose glistering beautie, is so much,
As to thinke on, my heart it ryues,
For Venus shee doth passe as farre,
As doth the Sunne, each shyning starre.
Eche gift, which nature could deuise,
By arte my Ladie, E, retaynes,
A sacred head, which to surmise,
The trueth, all other farre it staines,
Her haires bee of so glistering hewe,
As gold they stayne, to outward vewe.
By arte my Ladie, E, retaynes,
A sacred head, which to surmise,
The trueth, all other farre it staines,
Her haires bee of so glistering hewe,
As gold they stayne, to outward vewe.
Her christall eyes, her sugred tongue.
From whence such pleasaunt wordes do floe,
That lyking binds, both old and younge,
The ground to loue, where shee doth goe,
Her cherrie cheekes so fresh of hewe,
Her veynes much like to Azurs blewe.
From whence such pleasaunt wordes do floe,
That lyking binds, both old and younge,
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Her cherrie cheekes so fresh of hewe,
Her veynes much like to Azurs blewe.
Her Rubie lippes, her snowish necke,
Her proper chin, her christall breast,
Her pleasaunt veynes, whose pappes do decke,
Her comely corpes, so finely preast,
Her slender armes, with milke white hands,
Would catch the Gods in Cupids bands.
Her proper chin, her christall breast,
Her pleasaunt veynes, whose pappes do decke,
Her comely corpes, so finely preast,
Her slender armes, with milke white hands,
Would catch the Gods in Cupids bands.
Her other partes so finely wrought,
Doe passe my wittes for to recite,
For why it seemde dame Nature sought,
In Court, eche gorgious gearle to spite,
When first of mould, shee did her frame,
Shee is so beautiful a dame.
Doe passe my wittes for to recite,
For why it seemde dame Nature sought,
In Court, eche gorgious gearle to spite,
When first of mould, shee did her frame,
Shee is so beautiful a dame.
Noe maruell though, the Græcian king,
Did shape his course, through fishfull floud,
From hatefull Troy, his wife to bring,
Or els in Phrygia leaue his bloud,
If halfe such beautie, in Hellen were,
As is in this my Ladie faire.
Did shape his course, through fishfull floud,
From hatefull Troy, his wife to bring,
Or els in Phrygia leaue his bloud,
If halfe such beautie, in Hellen were,
As is in this my Ladie faire.
If Briseis beautie, were so bright,
Her comely syces, so exceld,
None may blame Achilles flight,
When raging loue, his heart compeld,
To leaue his Lord amid his foes,
A salue to search, to cure his woes.
Her comely syces, so exceld,
None may blame Achilles flight,
When raging loue, his heart compeld,
To leaue his Lord amid his foes,
A salue to search, to cure his woes.
Nor yet Vlysses none may blame,
Though frencie, hee himselfe did faine,
Because without reprochfull shame,
Hee would avoide the Græcian traine,
The which to Troy, their course did shape,
To fetch againe Syr Paris rape.
Though frencie, hee himselfe did faine,
Because without reprochfull shame,
Hee would avoide the Græcian traine,
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To fetch againe Syr Paris rape.
If that the beautie, equall were,
Of chaste Penelope his wife,
To match with this my Lady rare,
For whom I hazard would my life,
Amid a troupe of Troyans fell,
My fancie shee doth feede so well.
Of chaste Penelope his wife,
To match with this my Lady rare,
For whom I hazard would my life,
Amid a troupe of Troyans fell,
My fancie shee doth feede so well.
| The Rocke of Regard | |