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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[I dreaming once (me thought) dame beautie bad me craue] |
 | The Rocke of Regard |  |
[I dreaming once (me thought) dame beautie bad me craue]
I dreaming once (me thought) dame beautie bad me craue,The thing that fed my fācie best, & I the same should haue.
My choice was quickly made, I beautie likt so well,
And yet I su'de my maistresse might, her seemely selfe excell.
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Such one (quoth shee) thou shalt inioy, make much of thy delight:
Unto which ende forsooth, for fortune straight shee sought,
Who did present a sightly girle, vnto my wanton thought.
My promise is performde (quoth shee) sweete friend adieu.
My fancie rendred forth with thankes, as though it had beene true:
But when I wooke and miste, this passing louely wight:
A murdred sighe, the fancie checkte, that raisde my late delight,
And fretting, forth I goe, fonde fancies for to chase,
But loe by Lady fortune signde, I chaunst to spy thy face.
Then to my selfe I said, cease Plasmos to be sad,
This is the Dame, thou didst possesse, in dreame that earst thou had,
Acquaintaunce for to craue, aduentrous boy assay,
Thou wert not nise, ne I abasht, my secretes to bewray,
I showde thee all and some, what I in vision sawe,
Thou wart mine owne by beauties dome, vnlesse thou scorndst her law,
My wordes did like thee well, or praises that I vsde,
And smyling saidst, Dame beauties hest, must no wayes be abusde,
Thus after slender sute, thou knowste whom I enioyde,
But easily wonne, as soone thou wert, through sullon will accoyde,
And in thy wrangling rage, I sawe thee raunge for newe:
I chafte through sight, Dame beautie blamd, cause Laymos was not true.
Which soone I did recant, and yeelded for to haue,
My sute performde at beauties hands, in forme as I did craue.
I askst a gallant gyrle, which vaild at first assault,
I askte no faith, nor none I found, in whom was then the fault?
In him who now will learne, to make his match more sure,
And as for thee thou dost but hinde, to stoupe to euery lure.
| The Rocke of Regard | |