University of Virginia Library

Ditties deuised at sundrie idle times for Recreation sake, written by Iames Yatis.

[Dame Practise brings experience]

Dame Practise brings experience,
Experience knovvledge gaines:
Dame Idelnesse hath ill conceiptes,
And loues To take no paines.

A thankesgeuing vnto God for the happie, peaceable, and most gloriouse Reigne of our singuler Souereigne and Ladie, Queene Elizabeth.

With humble heartes and faithfull mindes,
assemble all and pray,
And sing high laude, vnto our God,
whose goodnesse to display,
Surmountes the sense of mortall he.
to glorifie the same:
With such desertes as rightly longes,
vnto his blessed name.
Oh England, ioy thou litle Ile,
in prayers do not cease:
Both day and night giue laud to God,
for this thy happie peace,
Inioyed vnder Perelesse Prince,
Eizabeth thy Queene:
Whose quyet raigne declares that God,
his blessing would haue seene,
Upon her grace and eke her realme,
the which O Lord preserue:
With Seemely Cepter in her Throne,
thy Gospell to conserue.
From forraine foe, and faithlesse friendes,
from all that mischiffe workes:
Lord breake the broode of Enuies wyles,
in secretie that loorkes.
Lay open to her Princly viewe,
all those that faithlesse be
In thought against her Maiestie,
Lord let her highnesse see.
We must confesse vnfainedly,
we haue deseru'd thy ire:
We dayly lord, be prompt to sinne,
smale goodnesse we require.
Yet haue compassion on our land,
and do the same defend:
From those which vnder shew of friendes,
their mallice do pretend.
Unto our Quene which raigned hath,
this three and twentie yeares:
In peacable Tranquillitie,
as well to vs appeares.
God graunt Her highnesse Nestors yeeres
ouer this Realme to Raine,
Amen, Amen, for Iesus sake,
amen: we do not faine.

In the Commendation of a Godly and Vertuous Matron.

As I alone did walke in fieldes,
I heard a thundering voyce:
Which did descend from loftie skyes
whereof I stood in choyse,
For to coniecture with my selfe
what voyce should be the same:
It answered me as I it heard,
I am the flying fame.
Which farther said, take pen in hand
and proue thy simple skill:
To blaze abroad a Matrons life
whose minde doth meane no ill.

The trueth tries it selfe & needes no cōmendation

Her Vertuous life adorned is
with Godly zeale and grace:
Lucrese if she were aliue
she could it not deface.
No day doth passe this Matrons handes
in any idle sporte:
She to the Church to serue her God
in due time doth resorte.
If any wight shall purchase heauen
for Godly life well spent:
Fame told me that should be she,
high Ioue did so assent.
And to conclude, if graftes of grace
doe growe in any wight:
Then in the Hinde you may be bolde
they shine with vertue bright.
Thus much as Fame commanded me
I haue heere put in vre:
With heartie prayers to the Lorde
her life may long indure.

In the Commendation of a Dame,
Whose name is Elected with Fame.

If skill did rest within my head,
or Poets cunning art:
Then would I proue to write her praise
agreeing to her parte.
But Ladies if you doe deride
and scorne a willing minde:
Dame wisedome doth not teach you that,
but Momus mocking kinde.
For sooth the gallantst of you all,
that be of Dians flocke:
May seeme to let her haue a roome
without dispight or mocke.
For why? her fauour is as sweete,
her Beautie is as faire:
As any Dame in Dians Courte,
I rightly may compare.
Yea Chaste she lives I tell you true
in spite of Cupids ire:
A Vertuous praise the doth deserue
if duety may require.
Fœlix was not more faithfuller
vnto his friend in heart:
Then she is true vnto her make,
her vertue hath desert
Which long the Lord preserue and keepe
with his defending hand:
From faithlesse friendes and fauning foes
whose trust doth truthlesse stand.

In the Prayse of a vertuous Gentlewoman.

In the praise of Fennill and Woodbine.

Of a friende in prosperitie, and a foe in aduersitie.

That morning which so braue doth shine
with Phebus glistering face:
Eare darksome night approched is,
a shower doth it disgrace.
And yet Sir Phebus gallant hew
in morning did displaye:
Who seem'd to promise by aspect,
to burnish out the day.
Euen so of double harted friendes
I rightly do compare:
Which shewe a pleasant face vntill,
his friend be caught in care:
And then as dimming of the Sunne.
doth chaunge the former hue:
So doth a double faced friend,
returne againe a new.
From faithfull friendship which as he,
by promise should not do:
But those that can dissemble Sir,
they know what longs thereto.
But whilest thou art in prosperouse state,
and voyde of Fortunes lowre:
Then will they seeme to be thy friendes,
in pleasant wordes each howre.
But when Aduersitie that wretch,
hath caught thee in his snare:
Their friendship is forgotten then,
of thee they haue no care.
Wherefore who trustes a smiling face,
may chaunce to be beguylde:
And he that toucheth pich they say,
shall therewith be defil'd.

A perswation patiently to suffer Affliction.

To mortall wightes what praise more due,
then patiently to beare:
Such crosses and afflictions,
as Time doth bring with care.
For sure it is a happie thing,
for those that can vphold,
And Patiently to beare ill happes:
that Fatall fates vnfold.
So shall they finde it best in end,
as sequell iust doth try:
And eke aduaunce their name with praise,
Experience doth not lye.
But as for such as seeme to raue,
for losse of worldly mucke:
They are vnhappie in that case,
I pittie much that lucke.
For truth to tell I may be bold:
I know not which is he,
That Patiently doth beare his losse,
for ought that I can see.
But that he saith fy on this happe,
the world doth frowne on me:
I am not luckie vnto it,
oh spitfull miserie.
What mortall man can more be plagu'd,
then haue such losses still:
What sorrow comes by this despight,
alas it is too ill.
What braules do broile within my heade,
what griping {griefes} do nippe:
What yerkes of worldly losse I feele,
which smarteth like a whippe.
But worldling thou content thy selfe,
remember Christ did take:
A percing speare into his side,
and all was for thy sake.
And can'st not thou prouoke thy moode,
to beare a litle smart:
And take thy crosse and follow Christ,
to winne thee heauens Desert.
And patiently with penitent minde,
vnto the Lord to pray:
That he would of his goodnesse greate,
defend thee night and day.
Wherefore this my aduise I giue
in sicknesse or in health:
In losse of fame in losse of friendes,
or losse of worldly wealth.
Or losse of losse, that haplesly,
vnto thy state may fall:
In any losse lose not the Lord,
but on him still do call,
That it would please him thee to send,
in midst of hardest happe:
A merry hearte to praise his name,
and ioyfull hands to clappe.

How Time erecteth and destroyeth.

When Musing minde had Fancie fedde
to cogitate of Time,
And I beholding then such things
as pleasant, were in prime,
And that the thing is come to passe,
which I nere thought should be:
Then straight waie to my selfe I saide,
behold now may ye see,
How Time hath wrought, by Tract of Time,
such things as to the show,
Did seeme vnlikely for to be,
as verie well I know.
For there are some of low degree,
and Progenie but base:
Are now come vp and set aloft,
did not Time do this case?
Yes surely beliue me now,
for Time can mountaines moue:
And Time doth worke much things that seeme,
vnlikely for to proue.
Within my time I haue oft seene,
great things and many straunge:
And dayly do still more and more,
as Time doth worke a chaunge,
For Time will soften flinte so hard,
by Time some doe aspyre,
To winne the thing to please the minde,
and get their heartes desire.
And if their hearts Desire be got,
thanke hap and Time therefore:
If these same two doe faile our friendes,
our purpose Gets no more.
As Time hath brought many full lowe
that were full high in hap:
So Time diffused hath their state,
that Fortune did be wrap.
She altered hath most Famous thinges
that some set vp for Fame:
And did not thinke of Time I thinke
when they began the same,
But thought it should remaine for aye
and Time could not deface:
Such Monuments as they set vp
to get a goodly grace.
But sooth to tell, Time with her Time
can euery thing bestowe:
And those that are so high aloft
she can bring downe full lowe.

Of a smiling Countenance beguilding the worlde.

A goodly house that seemeth braue
and pleasant to the sight,
With walles set out in goodly forme
and windowes trimme of light,
May chance within for to haue
a cracke which is vnseene,
And yet the world knowes not so much
nor workeman as I weene
Euen so forsooth such flearing mates
that shew a smiling face:
I may compare them as before,
for why? marke well this case.
Thou seest them laugh and smile on thee,
but what doth rest in heart?
A mocke or tawme behind thy backe,
I know some playe that part.
And yet theile looke so faithfully

A Parasites parte.

and seeme so true to thee,
And proffer out such sugred wordes
and show such courtesie,
I meane in this, by speaking faire,
but not in deedes Perdie:
Wherefore take heede trust not their shew
there may be Treacherie.
An Apple seeming braue to view,
may faultie be within:
And Pewterers may play thee false,
by putting leade in Tin.
And he that writes, may place A. H.
where as A. G. should serue:
But Truth to tell A. F. were best,
for some doe it deserue.
And vnder fresh and fragrant Rose
may lye a lothsome Toad:
For to infect that flowre braue
by hauing there aboad.
Wherefore I count them happy sure
that doe not trust the vse:
Of {Fickle} flattering flearing friendes,
in them doth rest abuse.
Let these examples put before
suffice to shewe the kinde,
Of Truthlesse troth, which readie is
in each deceiptfull mind.

When as occasion moueth,
To answere it behoueth.

When vrgent cause doth moue,
who can withhold his hand:
The Worme when she is troden on
doth seeme for to withstand.
The Owle of vgly hue,
doth thinke her birdes are best:
The miser pincheth at his feast,
although he bids his ghest.
The windes that rise in skyes
doe threaten surges sore:
And tatling tales doe moue Debate
where none was ment before.
The valiant Champion Stoute,
which hath a Victors minde:
Doth thinke ther's none so good as he,
vntill by proofe he find.
The fop and fauning foole

An old saying: The foole will not leaue his Bable for the Tower of Lōdon.

doth like his bable so:
As for the Tower of great price,
he will not let it goe.
The Scholler younge in schoole,
may proue a learned Clarke:
The whelpe by Natures kinde we see
is giuen for to barke.
The Scholler though but young
hath wrote this verse to those,
Which pleaseth for to answere him
in Meeter or in prose.
But trueth for to vnfold,
some loue to prattle much:
And finde three faultes, yet mend not one,
yea Minstrelles oft be such.

If one shoulde throwe a stone at euery Curre that barkes his Arme must needes be weary.

At euery dog which barkes,
if one should throw a stone:
Perchance in end he would haue wisht
to let such Curs alone.

Hard hap causeth sorrowe,
and breedeth disrest:
Where griefe is not absent
notes solemne are best.

Like as the Carren Crowe
doth crie against the raine:
So I which doe foresee my griefe
begin for to complaine.
Or as the snared Hare,
lyes tumbling in the net:
So I lye tumbling in my woe,
which I cannot forget.
For why, no noysome newes
doth glad the heart of man:
But doth reuoke his pleasures all
on sorrowes for to skan.
I see how spitefull Care
doth looke out of her bowre:
And Fortune with her smiling face
beginneth for to lowre.
The mistie cloudes of griefe
doe dimme my cleerest sight:
And haplesse hap doth take the place
to worke my deepe despight.
The sweete and pleasant sentes,
which I was wont to taste:
Be cleane dismist and put away,
my pleasures all do wast.
The fine and flagrant smels,
which did me recreate:
Be noysome fauours vnto me,
and worke me much Debate.
Sir Phebus glistering hue,
seemes nothing in my eyes:
For why, I weepe and spend the day,
with sorrowing sobbes and cryes.
No maruaile though I write,
with pensiue pen in hand:
No maruaile though I waile in deeds,
when things be rightly skand.
And marke now which be they,
that do oppresse me most:
Deride me not, though plaine I tell,
you heades of finest cost.
Lo thus I do beginne,
they are in number three:
The first of them, is losse of friendes,
the next discurtesie.
The thirde is not beleeue,
the spitfullest of all:
Which griues me more then former two,
and bitter seemes as gall.
But well, what remedie,
Plaine patience is the best:
For why by her, we dayly see,
is got most quyet rest.
What doth it boote the shippe,
to saile against the winde:
She must abide, for Time and Tide,
els tarrie still behinde.
Or els perchaunce she drinkes,
for enterprise so bolde:
And layes her ribbes in foaming seats,
of waters wanne and cold.
What doth it oft preuaile,
to striue to reach the skye?
In my conceipte, it were but vaine,
least some for it do crye.
What though that smyling wordes,
hath led me on the bit?
Some froward speech shall loose the bond,
if luckie chaunce so hit.
A Prouerbe long ago,
tels Faire wordes makes fooles faine:
Which Sentence tries it selfe in me,
the more hath beene my paine.
I stand to trye my Chaunce,
as Fortune will alofte:
To see if that she white thee rede,
or dimme it with a blot.
And if she be so kinde,
to take the blot away:
Then will I sing some ioyfull songe,
in praise of that good day.
But if that it be so,
the blot do full remaine:
What remedie but Patience she,
must medicine bee for paine:
But if that spite will spitte,
her spite in furiouse wise:
Let all the spites do what they will,
or what they can surmise.
For by my Troth I am,
as the condemned wight:
Which thinkes his life is past release,
and voyde is of delight.
So I am voyde of ioy,
yet laugh I with the best:
And smile it out in pleasant hue,
as well as do the rest.
But what of that, I know
ther's many a smiling face:
Beares heauie heart, in Carefull Corpes,
which causeth their disgrace.

A Glasse for Amorouse Maydens to looke in,

friendly framed as a caueat for a light beleeuing Mayden: which she may take as a requisite rebuke, if she modestly meditate the matter.

Fy , Mayden fy, that Cupids flames,
within you so abounde:
To trust the tatling tales of some,
whose wordes proue oft vnsounde?
Should euery knaue intice you so,
to talke with you at will?
What be your wittes so simple now?
and of such litle skill?
As you can not discerne in minde,
who leades you on the bit?
Fy, fy for shame, now leaue it off
it is a thing vnfit.
I promise you it griues me sure,
because I am your friend:
That euery Iacke should talke with you,

Let Iacke be a Iacke I pray you.

and it is to no end.
But for to feele and grope your minde,
and then they laugh in sleeue:
And say it is a gentle maide.
how she will men beleeue.
Thus do the knaues so cogge and foyst,
and count you as a foole:
And say your wittes they be so base,
as you may go to schoole.
Wherefore loue no such fleeting Iackes,
and giue to them no eare:
And thinke this lesson to be true,
which I haue written here.
For well in Time you shall it finde,

Good counsell would not be refused.

to breede in you vnrest:
Wherefore to leaue it of at first,
I thinke it were the best.
Giue not your mind to be intic'd,
to heare each tatling tale,
Where constant heades do not abide,
what Hope doth there auaile:
You will not warned be I see,
vntill you haue a nippe:
You know the horse which drawes in cart,
is euer nye the whippe.
But when too late, you do repent,
repentance will not serue:
Wherefore foresee, in time I warne,
from follie fond to swerue.
Take heede I say in time therefore,
so shall your state be blest:
And I shall cease, to write so much,
my pen shall take his rest.

A praise of friendshippe.

Of all the Iuels vnder heauen,
firme friendshipe is the best:
Oh happie man, that findes the same,
yea twise and double blest.
A trustie friend is harde to finde
as Sages old doe tell:
But flattering friendes attend at hand
some profit out to smell.
And when for greedinesse of gain
his friend he doth forsake:
That friendship is not faithfull fixt,
but as the larking Snake
Lies hidden vp in leaues so greene,
to sting a man vnwares:
Euen so a fauning friend is found
to leaue a man in cares.
But faithfull friendship saith to him
thou dost declare thy kinde:
Thou shew'st thy nature and thy moode,
and eke thy truthles minde.
O faithfull friendship, high in hap
thou dost no time Dissemble:
Thou swaruest not in time of neede,
though foes coulde make thee tremble.
Thou standest like a steadie rocke,
though friend be link'd in chaines:
And if thou maist expulse his thralles
thou thinkst it happy paines.
And to redresse him of his greeues,
and libertie to get:
Such is thy faith and constancie
as charge no time can let.
Such is a faithfull friend indeede,
but for a friend by shewes:
He is a friend but flatteringly
as well his conscience knowes.
A faithfull friend is neuer tried
till [illeg.] be neare the brinke:
And that his friend is like to fall,
and if he then doe shrinke:
That friend will beare the name no more
of faithfull friend I say:
But counted as a fleeting friend
wherein there is no stay.
There are many kindes of frends god knows,
more then I can well name:
There are friends in words and not in deedes,
and friendes that faile with shame.
And friendes by former promise true
till stone is roulde on necke:
And then Godboy, they cannot stay,
but feede thee with a beeke.
Such is the friendship of this world:
O Lorde a faithfull friend.
Is rare to finde, and daintie sure
to haue vnto the end.
For faithfull friendes were neuer more
in scarcitie then now:
Nor neuer harder for to finde,
to God I make a vowe.
For I my selfe not long a goe,
by raunging wise did trie,
What seedes were sowne in friēdships groūd,
and where the chaste did lye.
And as the triall telles the trueth,
euen so I haue founde out:
To settle thinges within my thought,
which I tofore did doubt.
For why? that friend that laughes on thee
is not a friend in heart:
But outwardly he seemes thy friend
and inwardly thy smarte.
And suckes thee as the lurking Drone
which doth beguild the [illeg.]ee:
So he lyes lurking in his den
some spite to worke to thee.
And yet with fauning smiling lookes.
he laughes vpon thee so:
To bleare thy eies, as who should say
he cannot be thy foe.
But trust him not for his faire lookes,
ne for his glosing vaine:
But vtterly detest such mates,
as flatter, fleare, and faine.
The greatest hap that God doth send,
is faithfull friendes to haue:
Whose constant stay doth not decline,
till vitall breath depraue.
Alas some kinde of friendes I knowe,
when state impouerisht sore:
Doe scornefully looke of that hap,
and know? their friendes no more.
But faithfull friendship doth not vse
to fleete and fall away:
He saith I am a faithfull friend,
and so I meane to stay.
He doth not say it so in wordes,
but deedes approue it true:
A faithfull friend is faithfull still,
as we may dayly view.
Wherfore of faithfull friendship heere,
this little Epigram:
By vrgent cause did moue my minde,
and so it hether came.
And as of it in skillesse wise
I some thing here haue saide:
So of iust Dealing and Constancie,
shal somewhat be displaied.
As I doe hope no grudging minde
shall murmure at the same:
But if they doe, the faults not mine,
for those that haunt that game,
Constantly leaue, although they know
they offer open wrong:
Well what of that, the time shall trie
their trustie truth ere long.
But this I say, who so doth finde
a friend that is a friend:
Then vse him so as thou maist haue
his friendship to the end.

A Prayse of Iust Dealing.

To liue in worlde and not deale iust,
a heynous faulte it is:
A crime which God doth not allowe
to come in seate of blisse.
For why? to liue Deceiptfully
is lothsome in the sight,
Of sacred God that sits on high
as Iudge of. Prudent might
Be iust in all thy dealings sure,
so shalt thou purchase Fame:
And win the praise of euery wight,
as worthie is the same.
For dealing iust doth carry laude
in thought of honest minde:
And lauding iust wilbe allowed,
as trueth hath it assign'd.
Preace not among Deceiptfull mates
thy honest name to loose:
No leape thou yet in daungerous place
least thou thy selfe doth broose.
But leape vpright, and swarue thou not
ne leane no more then iust:
For if thou wrongfully be spied
deceiptfully to thrust:
Then shalt thou loose thy credit quite
not comming in the place:
Where as iust dealing doth abide,
but rooted out of race.
In dealing iust thy doings shall,
so prosper and vphold:
As all the world will lende thee praise,
on it thou maist be bolde.
And God will blesse thee in the same,
and furtherance thee send:
For who so iustly seemes to deale,
doth neuer God offend.
For why, the iust and honest man,
his handes are clasped still:
He takes no bribes for to make good,
a matter which is ill.
He saith, if bribes that I should take,
I do not then deale iust:
I do offend my maker sore,
of truth confesse I must.
I shall be call'd vnto accounte,
before the liuing God:
Who dealeth as we giue desert,
his dealing is not odde.
And if I wretch haue not dealt iust,
what answere shall I make:
Oh how can I excuse my selfe,
but fault vpon me take.
Thus saith the iust and honest man,
thus pondereth he in mind:
Thus must it be and thus it is,
so God hath it assign'd.
And since by him commaundment is,
no lucer for to take:
My handes they shall be clasped so,
vniust life none to make.
I come not of a scrupulouse kinde,
lo thus iust dealing sayes:
Although that I derided be,
of those that vse those wayes.
I do defy them with my hearte,
they shall not lodge with me:
But be accounted as they are,
for ought that I can see.
The righteouse man doth them exclude,
and puttes them out of minde:
He doth eschewe their company,
he forceth not their kinde.
He saith I am as ill as they,
if I vphold their state:
Wherefore with willing heart I sweare,
O Lord I them do hate.
God let me neuer liue (saith he,)
vniustly for to deale:
But graunt me grace for iustnesse I
may vnto thee appeale.
And when I shall yelde vp my life.
a iust account to make:
How that with iustice I haue dealt
all briberie to forsake.
For doubt we not, our heauenly God
hath mercy still in store:
And hath aboundance to supply,
our want though it were more.
But God forbid we should presume,
vpon fond hope in vaine:
It is the way to purchase hell,
remission none to gaine.
For he that sinneth still in hope,
offendes the holy ghost:
And he that doth offend that God,
shall vengeance feele with most.
For why the sinne against that God,
as Scripture doth declare:
Is more offensiue then the rest:
So Paul doth witnesse beare.
Wherefore God graunt we not offend,
in no respect with will:
But with a hearte vnfaynedly
aske pardon for it still.
And craue of God, with faithfull hearte,
his mercy may vs guyde:
That when our life shall yelde to death,
we may with him abide.
And there to laude thy name with praise,
which euer shall endure:
Graunt this O Lord for Christ his sake,
whose bloud made vs all pure.

A praise of Constancie

The constant wight which doth possesse,
that heauenly gift so rare:
Is happie sure and blest of God,
to haue it to his share.
For constancie is such a gift,
as doth surmount the rest:
And much commended for the kinde,
of rarenesse in the brest.
To haue a fickle minde you know,
it maketh oft Debate:
And causeth much Contentiouse trickes,
which Constancie doth hate.
Wherefore I count him happie sure,
that doth that gift imbrace:
He is much bound to thanke the Lord,
for that his happie case.
For Constancie is such a gift,
as sure it doth excell:
All Ryotouse trickes and wanton toyes
Constancie doth expell.
For why such braggers as do runne.
vpon their giddie will:
Are in the end suffyc'd with paine,
and haue on it their fill.
And paraduenture wish they would,
their minde had Constant beene:
And not so rashly for to raunge,
in their deuises thinne.
For Rashnesse doth no whit preuaile,
when raging windes do blowe:
The safest way to guyde thy shippe,
is saile to beare a lowe.
Experience tells and makes a proofe
you see the sillie snaile:
By stealing steppes will get alofte,
and doth to toppe preuaile.
When Rashnesse lyeth vnder foote,
and cryeth O my bones:
And doth repent him of his hast,
with gryping greuouse grones.
I may well say if that he had,
with Constancie him prest:
Then Rashnesse had not caus'd his hurt,
to breede his greate vnrest.
For Rashnesse is not Constancie
but giddinesse of braine:
And misseth staying of his side
and furthers foorth his paine:
And heapeth more mishaps on head
then pleasures doe abounde:
That getteth giddie braines (I say)
by Rashnesse so vnsounde.
To be a Constant friend is rare:
a Constant louer true,
Deserueth praise amonge the best
and worthie is in viewe.
In euery thing to vse this Dame
me thinkes is passing sure:
And those that doe not her inuest
haue not a life so pure,
As I would wish (of God) they had
or eke I had myselfe:
For trust me true, the vaine of it
cannot be bought with pelfe.
But God must be the giuer (he)
of such a gifte so hye:
As passeth captious head of man,
in heauens it doth lye.
And when with earnest zeale we pray,
God doth vs not reiect:
But bendes his heauenly eares to heare,
and hath of vs respect.
Oh heauenly wightes that doe imbrace
this heauenly gifte alway:
No Rash aduice doth passe your handes,
all Ilnesse you doe stay.
But with a mild and modest minde
you foster euery doubt:
And take those chaunces well in worth
which time doth bring about.
What wished hap can better be,
or what can please you more?
But for to wish and haue at will,
where plentie is in store.
This plenteous place, that I doe meane,
is vp aboue in skie:
It restes in seate inuisible,
yea frustrate from the eye.
Yet not so harde for to attaine
if deedes according be:
A life well led in Godly feare,
doth winne that place we see.
If Anchor hold, and Cable strong,
be fastned on with faith:
That Hould shall not relent the Hould,
as holy Scripture saith.
Wherefore if Constancie be placd
within thy brest so pure:
Giue laude to God whose heauenlie giftes
for euer shall indure.

A presumptuous Poesie for Pontificall pates.

Written vpon the departure of Care.

Written vpon Chaunce.

Some Times a chaunce doth chaunce,
by chaunce to please the minde:
Some times againe, a chaunce doth chaunce,
that no such chaunce we finde.
If luckely there chaunce
a chaunce to thy delight:
Then I am sure that such a chaunce,
is ioyfull in thy sight.
If contrarie wise a chaunce,
do chaunce to bringe thee smart:
Then I am sure that such a chaunce,
is dolefull to thy heart.
Yet must we be content,
as well in chaunce of care:
As we are pleased in chaunce of mirth,
or chaunce that brings no feare.
For chaunces haue their chaunce,
like chaunces as they be:
And chaunce wil chaunce as chaūce doth please,
and so much chaunce for me.
Who seemes to wrest with chaunce,
may chaunce for to repent:
That chaunce hath so vnkindly chaunc'd,
to chaunce to his lament.
Then is it best Perchaunce,
to be content with chaunce:
Wheather it doth Decrease thy state,
or do thy state aduaunce.
And sith of chaunce there is
such chaunce of tickle state:
In modest sorte receaue thy chaunce,
as well of mirth as hate.
For trust me touching chaunce,
it chaunceth now a dayes:
That such as gape for chaunce of Laude,
they chaunce vpon Dispraise.

It is a difficulte matter to please many.

How should a man his vsage frame?
to please each kinde of wight,
The froward and the fickle friend,
I see he takes delight.
In ouerthwarting of the vse,
of those he doth not loue:
For where Affection is not firme,
what will not mallice moue.
Let one endeuour what he can,
to satisfie their vaine:
Yet shall he haue behinde his backe,
some speach to his disdaine.
The more a man is mou'd to shew,
some fauour for his friend:
The more he seemeth to be quoy,
and fayleth in the end.
what hap more heard then sue and serue,
and yet to want good will:
What paine more pinching to the minde,
then wronged, yet doth no ill.
What greefe more greate then secretlie,
to be exclam'd vpon:
What hell more hatefull then vntruth
where faithfulnesse is gone.
What folly more then fleare and faune,
yet altogether fayning:
What Deede more Deuilish then Dispight,
and alwayes still Disdaining.
From such as do frequent the same
the Lord my friend defend:
And eke conuert the fond intent,
of those that doe offend.

Yatis his song written presently after his comming from London.

Of wayling, and not preuailing.

A Sonnet declaring what infortunate chaunces doe happen by trusting to the slipperie stone.

I clim'd aloft and thought not of my fall,
For slipperie stone alas did me beguilde:
I fell so harde vpon the hardye hall,
As breath from Corpes was almost cleane exilde.
Lo, what it is to yeeld to wanton will,
Whose want of witt to sorrow proues at last:
Who would asspire may wish he had sate still,
And so auoyde perchance an ouer cast.
Yet youthfull toyes of giddy youth are such,
Not for to care vntill the present time
That griefe they feele, and then lament they much,
That fondly they so Rashly seem'd to clime:
Wherefore the meane, who so obserues in brest
Shall surely see he winnes a quiet rest.

A Sonnet of a slaunderous tongue.

Of all the plagues that raine on mortall wightes,
Yet is there none like to a slaunderous tongue:
Which brings Debate, and filles each heart with spights,
And Enemy is, as well to old as young.
In my conceipt they doe more hurte I sweare
Then stinking Toads that lothsome are to sighte:
For why? such tongues cannot conceale and beare
But vttes forth that which workes most Despite.
They do more hurt then casting Mooles in meade,
Which doe turne vp the blacke earth on the greene
Their poysoned speach doth serue in little steade,
They practise spite, as dayly it is seene.
O Lorde I pray from singlenesse of heart,
Such slanderous tongues, reforme, and eke conuert.

Written at the Request of E. L. Vnto F. S. which he had Selected for his Mistresse.

The Carefull Complainte of a Dolorous Dame.

An Epitaph vpon the death of Master Poolies wife of Badly.

Giuen vnto Mistresse F. W. when shee Went to waite.

To waite on Noble Dames,
much attendance it doth craue:
And searcheth out in each respect,
the seruice that you haue.
Attendance you must daunce,
in chamber all the day:
And not to walke abrode in fieldes,
if truth Reporte doth say.
Except my Lady go,
then you must waite on her:
Or els to keepe the chamber still,
and not abrode to stirre.
And when she playes at cardes,
downe kneele you must on knees:
An so to sit there all the Time,
vntill she winne or leese.
Oh God this is no life,
of Pleasure as I thinke:
To waite in chamber all the day,
till sleepe do make you winke.
But Paraduenture you
do thinke Preferment there:
Will hoyse you vp to be aloft,
and set you voyde of care.
I do not I, say nay,
for it is like to be:
And I as glad as any one,
that happie day to see.
Thus gentle Mistresse mine,
The Gods keepe you in rest:
And graunt such pleasures to abound,
as sorrowes not molest.

Of one who had vitiously spent his Patrimonie.

If shriking plaintes of bitter brest,
may perce the loftie skye:
Or heauie happes of Fortunes lore,
that happen so awry:
Then come drawe ny, good minded willes,
and marke this mournfull verse:
Lend willing eares to heare short tale,
the which I shall rehearse.
It chaunced so by wanton will,
a man that was in Prime:
Whose witlesse race, did not regarde,
for substance of his time.
But vainely he did spend his welth,
in {h}ugling pleasures sweete:
Yea not regarding honest lore,
ne sober life discreete.
He was worth thousandes by reporte,
this man in London soyle:
Who there doth spend his dolefull dayes,
ashamed of his foyle.
His yonger Brother now is come
by taking honest Paine:
For to disspend by londe a yeare,
an hundred pound certaine
Oh Shamelesse Sauage elder thou,
what shame falles to thy share:
Sweete minching Dames haue pul'd thee so,
as clothes are skant to weare.

The wounded wight thus complayneth.

Not Beautie but Bountie.

A presumption of the Courtesie of Fortune.

Of Hope.

Of a happie exchaunge.

Leaue of to muse my friendes,
for to beholde my state:
I liued once in deepe Disdaine,
my hearte did burne in hate.
The Tediouse toyling time,
of my tormoyling dayes:
Brought sorrow inwardly to sinke.
whose fittes a thousand wayes,
Molested so my minde,
bereaued so my rest:
As often times I did accounte,
my selfe to be vnblest.
And pondering with my selfe,
how vsuall constraint:
Inforced me to seeke some meane,
my greeues for to depaint.
Then see how fortune fond,
for me did put in vre:
A {f}aling out not by Desert,
for me she did procure.
Whereby I had iust cause,
each thing considered right,
To shake off belles whose sounde was greefe,
and proue another flight.
And see if that I could,
prouide so for my ill:
As that contempte of my conceipte,
did not offend me still.
Not like the mounting Dorre,
which buzzeth vp on hy:
And falleth Downe (an homely tale)
and all to be, doth lye.
For some do chaunge in hope,
of better happe and place:
Yet finde it workes such is ill lucke,
a lamentable case.
But I may vaunte and say,
more then I could before:
I haue my pleasure but too much,
and what doth youth wish more,
Some profit eke withall,
is matched for her mate:
The countinance of cheerefull hue,
me thinkes doth blesse by state.
The quyetnesse of minde,
the fearefull feare excluded:
The fond surmyses of my heade,
with odiouse othes deluded.
So much doth me reioyce,
that all thinges past and donne:
As to my selfe oft times I say,
me thinkes I heauen haue wonne.
For those which alwayes haue,
beene pent in priuate paine:
When as they haue release thereof,
they double thinke their gaine.
Lo thus I do conclude,
in this my skillesse stile:
And thanke the Lord whose goodnesse greate,
hath holpen my exile.

Of the Mutabillitie of this world.

Oh wauering world, vnconstant and vnkinde,
Oh drudge to droyle and driuell to the minde.
Oh toyle, oh paine, oh how by trauell tost:
Oh waues of wo, that worke so for the most.
Oh harde to please, and ready to offend,
Oh quicke to sinne, and slowly to amend.
Oh prompt to speake, our friend for to disease,
Oh slacke to helpe, but quickly to displease.
Oh eares to heare each tatling tale vs brought,
Oh tongue to taunt whereby is mischiefe wrought.
Oh gruppilouse mindes desirouse to haue gaine,
Oh hazardes hard which harbors in the braine.
Oh how we are by fickle Fancie led,
Oh how we seeke to haue our humor fed.
Oh how we harke and listen vnto tales,
Oh ignorance, how she bringes vs vnto bales.
Oh how we sigh, when as we feele the smart,
Oh how before we thinke not of that part.
Oh how this world, by Mutabillitie,
Doth often chaunge and bringes much miserie.

It is a vaine thing to molest the minde with fortunes Inconstancie.

He being very sicke, and finding greate courtesie at his betters handes, thereupon writeth.

A Question vnto true Meaning.

Where hast thou beene so long,
Truemeaning to me tell?
Abroad in world to seeke and search
where Faithfulnesse doth dwell.
What hast thou found him out,
and where he keepes his hould?
I, [illeg.] keepes a marrish place,
that is both moist and colde.
Who bringeth him his foode?
firme friendes which neuer fayle:
And what is that they bring to him?
Plaine proofe, which shall preuaile.
Why doth he keepe away?
because men should him craue:
He saith that fewe now Desire
his companie to haue.
Who is the cause thereof?
Dissembling deepe delight:
Who doth allure the mindes of men
to swerue from faithfull right.
And doth Dissembling driue
Firme faithfulnesse away?
I. I. Truemeaning markes it well,
he seeth it euery day.
Let Flearing flatterie faune,
Truemeaning is but plaine:
Yet Truemeaning and faithfulnesse.
were neuer found to faine.
Truemeaning cannot glose,
ne Faithfulnesse deceaue:
Wherefore Truemeaning and Faythfulnesse
of Dissembling take their leaue.

Written vnto Master S. H.

A fancy vpon fortune

A vowe prefixt.

A quyet life is sure a world of wealth,
A meane to mirth, a preparatiue for health.

His farewell to Feare.

Of the burning of the eares

If Talles so often told,
may moue vs to beleeue,
That trueth of force in them doth rest:
then let it not me greeue,
That I doe credite giue
vnto the saying old:
Which is, when as the eares doe burne,
some thing on thee is told.
Then trust me now for true,
in me it is approu'd:
For why, my eares haue burnt so hot
as I thereby am mou'd,
To write as heare you see,
for to foreshew my case:
That vnto fables fond and vaine,
our nature giueth place.
For if the right eare burne,
then thus the saying is:
No good on thee that time they speake.
but sure how true it is,
I leaue it for to iudge,
to those that knowe the same:
For if I intermeddle farre,
I shall but purchase blame.
Well, when the left eare burnes,
then doe they speake thee good:
But surely I counte them both
a tale of Robin hood.
Belieue them who that list:
for I will leaue the same,
To him which is the righteous Iudge,
and Prince of peereles Fame,

A sorowfull Libell Exhibited to Ioue.

The conclusion, wherein is included the Authors Name.