The Forrest of Fancy Wherein is conteined very prety Apothegmes, and pleasaunt histories, both in meeter and prose, Songes, Sonets, Epigrams and Epistles, of diuerse matter and in diuerse manner. With sundry other deuices, no lesse pithye then pleasaunt and profytable [by H. C.] |
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Varinus hauing found in the night time that which plesed
his fancy he commendeth it much, and craueth to be accepted for her seruant whom he intyrely loued.
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 | The Forrest of Fancy |  |
Varinus hauing found in the night time that which plesed his fancy he commendeth it much, and craueth to be accepted for her seruant whom he intyrely loued.
Though many much mislike the longand weary winter nights,
I cannot but commend them still,
for diuerse dere delightes,
The night we see, brings siluer steepes,
sleepe courseth care away,
Cares being cast from out the mind.
there harboures happy ioye.
Where ioye aboundes, there helth hath place.
where happy helth doth bide,
There life lastes long, this proofe shewes plaine,
and may not be denyde:
Lo this the happy night procures,
which wrought my wished will,
Therefore I must before the day,
preferre and praise it still,
But some perhaps will maruaile much,
my fond effect to heare,
Let them not spare mine knowes the cause,
why I so straunge appeare,
In this my vnacquainted verce,
such darke conceites to write,
Nor neuer shall, but onely I,
and she whose bewty bright,
Did in the darke hath bleare mine eyes,
and lend me perfect light,
She she it is that knowes full well,
from whence my Muse proceedes,
Yea she it is that both my blisse,
and bale together breedes,
Her presence doth procure my rest,
her absence workes my woe,
her sorrow makes to flow
Whole floodes of teares from out mine eyes,
and killes my hart with care,
Whose comly grace and courtious deedes,
doe make her seeme as rare
As in the world the Phenix is,
and blessed would I count
My selfe, and say that in good luck,
all others I surmount,
Might I but once such grace obtaine
at her sweete handes, to be
Accepted as a seruaunt still,
no more is craude of me,
Which if I might atchieue, no doubt,
I would my selfe apply,
To please her so in eche respect,
as she should truely trie,
And so confesse, she neuer found
so fyrme a friend before,
Or seruaunt of such secresy,
that did esteeme her more:
What so she could commaund or will,
by day or else by night,
On sea or Land I would fulfill,
though death appeard in sight,
Or all the greefes that griefly ghostes,
in Limbo lake sustaine,
Should me assayle with furious moode,
to make me to refraine:
Yet should it not withdraw my minde,
from doing her desyre,
Hap good or ill, what so betide,
I would thereto aspyre,
And wages none at all I craue,
but leaue it to her will.
her fancy to fulfill.
But when she hath made profe of me,
as she shall best deuise,
And sees my seruice what it is,
if she in any wise
Mislike thereof, let her withdraw
From me her fauour quight,
And vse what kinde of way she will,
to worke me more despight.
For as my health on her dependes,
So if I want her grace,
I loth my lyfe and wish for death,
to reaue my rufull race.
Finis.
| The Forrest of Fancy | |