A pleasant Discourse of Court and Wars with a replication to them both, and a commendation of all those that truly serue Prince and countrie. Written by Thomas Churchyard, and called his Cherrishing |
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 | A pleasant Discourse of Court and Wars |  |
Churchyards cherrishing.
Ten thousand spend their time in vaine,
That haunteth either court or wars,
In both of them some hopes to gaine,
VVhen both God wot full few prefars:
Then bluntly said, and truly told,
Long courting maketh yoong men old.
That haunteth either court or wars,
In both of them some hopes to gaine,
VVhen both God wot full few prefars:
Then bluntly said, and truly told,
Long courting maketh yoong men old.
Not rich, nor wise, till wit be bought,
VVealth followes few that thither run,
Some trudge to court to bring home thought,
Or see abrode how shines the sun:
But leaues Gods blessing far behinde,
And liues vpon an aspiring minde.
VVealth followes few that thither run,
Some trudge to court to bring home thought,
Or see abrode how shines the sun:
But leaues Gods blessing far behinde,
And liues vpon an aspiring minde.
The court is but a pleasant cage
For birds to prune their feathers in,
A ioy to youth, a paine to age,
VVhere many lose, and few do win:
A step of state, where honor stands
To bring free harts in bondage bands.
For birds to prune their feathers in,
A ioy to youth, a paine to age,
VVhere many lose, and few do win:
A step of state, where honor stands
To bring free harts in bondage bands.
A gladsome house of goodly gests,
That pay small seruice for their foode,
A body full of hollow brests,
VVhere hatreds egs brings foorth their broode,
A place of pompe, and perill both,
VVhere finenes ioines, with little troth.
That pay small seruice for their foode,
A body full of hollow brests,
VVhere hatreds egs brings foorth their broode,
A place of pompe, and perill both,
VVhere finenes ioines, with little troth.
A heaunly image heere on earth
That lookes like saint without a shrine,
An outward signe, and shew of mirth,
VVhere many smarts are cloked fine,
A glasse of steele in some od case,
VVhere each man may see his owne face.
That lookes like saint without a shrine,
An outward signe, and shew of mirth,
VVhere many smarts are cloked fine,
A glasse of steele in some od case,
VVhere each man may see his owne face.
A randevou, where millions meet
In one kings raigne or other sure,
A whetstone to a dulled spreet,
That many sweet conceits procure,
A pallace fraught with faire delite,
That prooues but blacke, when it seemes white.
In one kings raigne or other sure,
A whetstone to a dulled spreet,
That many sweet conceits procure,
A pallace fraught with faire delite,
That prooues but blacke, when it seemes white.
A drawing hope, that hath no end,
In harts that labour still for fame,
A strong crossebowe that will not bend,
Till courtly archers wins the game,
A plot where cunning digs vp pence,
And yet a place of great expence.
In harts that labour still for fame,
A strong crossebowe that will not bend,
Till courtly archers wins the game,
A plot where cunning digs vp pence,
And yet a place of great expence.
Court is a maze of turnings strange,
A laborinth, of working wits,
A princely seate, subiect to change,
VVhere Goddesse like, dame Pallas sits,
A fountaine frozen hard as ice,
VVhere cloked craft turnes oft the vice.
A laborinth, of working wits,
A princely seate, subiect to change,
VVhere Goddesse like, dame Pallas sits,
A fountaine frozen hard as ice,
VVhere cloked craft turnes oft the vice.
The well and spring that cooles the thirst,
And quencheth each consuming heat,
The cooling carde that harts doth birst,
The worme that life and lim doth eat,
The gladsome gazing mirror bright,
That showes brode day, but brings darke night.
And quencheth each consuming heat,
The cooling carde that harts doth birst,
The worme that life and lim doth eat,
The gladsome gazing mirror bright,
That showes brode day, but brings darke night.
The field where fortune runs at bace,
And showes foule play where she doth please,
The parke, the forrest, and the chace,
VVhere Dians Deere lodge safe at ease,
The feasting house, where surfets breed,
By tasting some things more than need.
And showes foule play where she doth please,
The parke, the forrest, and the chace,
VVhere Dians Deere lodge safe at ease,
The feasting house, where surfets breed,
By tasting some things more than need.
The soile where Venus built hir bowre,
And Cupid shootes his shafts too fast,
The onely grace of earthly powre,
That was or is, and so shall last:
The meane to make meane men to mount,
Yet court of no man makes account.
And Cupid shootes his shafts too fast,
The onely grace of earthly powre,
That was or is, and so shall last:
The meane to make meane men to mount,
Yet court of no man makes account.
The path to hit prefarments right,
But when or how, good hap must shoe.
The torch that giues a flattring light,
A blaze that quickly out will goe:
The candle cleere of comforts all,
Yet downe vntoucht, the snuffe will fall.
But when or how, good hap must shoe.
The torch that giues a flattring light,
A blaze that quickly out will goe:
The candle cleere of comforts all,
Yet downe vntoucht, the snuffe will fall.
The feeding hope of all good hap,
Till want coms home with weeping eie,
The smiling cloud where thunder clap
Fals ratling from a pleasant skie,
The calmy aire, that stormes doth hide,
Till winde bewraies a blustring tide.
Till want coms home with weeping eie,
The smiling cloud where thunder clap
Fals ratling from a pleasant skie,
The calmy aire, that stormes doth hide,
Till winde bewraies a blustring tide.
The platform where all Poets thriue,
Saue one whose voice is hoarse they say,
The stage where time away we driue,
As children in a pagent play,
To please the lookers on somtime,
With words, with bookes, in prose or rime.
Saue one whose voice is hoarse they say,
The stage where time away we driue,
As children in a pagent play,
To please the lookers on somtime,
With words, with bookes, in prose or rime.
The mount where might and mercy dwels,
The one may kill, the other saue,
The spring that maintains many wels,
Where thirsty throtes do water craue,
The nurse that milke and pap may giue,
To those that in great lack doth liue.
The one may kill, the other saue,
The spring that maintains many wels,
Where thirsty throtes do water craue,
The nurse that milke and pap may giue,
To those that in great lack doth liue.
The ciuill sword of worldly sway,
That cuts off many a canker cleane,
The head that secrets can bewray,
And teach rash wits to keepe a meane
The eie that sees both hie and loe,
Much further than our feete can goe.
That cuts off many a canker cleane,
The head that secrets can bewray,
And teach rash wits to keepe a meane
The eie that sees both hie and loe,
Much further than our feete can goe.
The ground where plenty planted was,
VVhen bounties blossoms brought foorth frute,
Then gold was but esteemd as glas
The prince so freely gaue a sute:
The onely spring and flowing spout,
VVhere all good turnes came flowing out.
VVhen bounties blossoms brought foorth frute,
Then gold was but esteemd as glas
The prince so freely gaue a sute:
The onely spring and flowing spout,
VVhere all good turnes came flowing out.
The royall house of all repaire,
VVhere subiects swarme, and still do run
As thick as flies flocks to the aire,
In sommers day when shines the sun,
The paradise of earthly show,
VVhere many goodly frutes do grow.
VVhere subiects swarme, and still do run
As thick as flies flocks to the aire,
In sommers day when shines the sun,
The paradise of earthly show,
VVhere many goodly frutes do grow.
The way to toull men on to spend,
As profit straight should rise thereon,
The ready rule to giue or lend,
Play best be trust till all be gon:
The place where promis is forgote,
Or where faire words make fooles to dote.
As profit straight should rise thereon,
The ready rule to giue or lend,
Play best be trust till all be gon:
The place where promis is forgote,
Or where faire words make fooles to dote.
The ankor hold we trust vnto,
If cord and cable do not breake,
The gallant ship that may vndo
VVith charge: most men whose purse is weake:
The quiet port when tide coms in,
For all bare barks that harbor win.
If cord and cable do not breake,
The gallant ship that may vndo
VVith charge: most men whose purse is weake:
The quiet port when tide coms in,
For all bare barks that harbor win.
The swelling sea where some do sinke,
(That waues and surges swallow vp)
The doubtfull banket where some drinke
Their bane out of a spiced cup:
The stage where many a part is plaid,
That makes some lookers on afraid.
(That waues and surges swallow vp)
The doubtfull banket where some drinke
Their bane out of a spiced cup:
The stage where many a part is plaid,
That makes some lookers on afraid.
The costly, sumptuous golden hall,
That eats vp many a thatched hiue,
The bulwarke and the brazen wall,
Against whose state no force dare striue:
The stay and prop to weakest things,
And vnto man most comfort brings.
That eats vp many a thatched hiue,
The bulwarke and the brazen wall,
Against whose state no force dare striue:
The stay and prop to weakest things,
And vnto man most comfort brings.
The flowre and blossom of each land,
That yeelds sweet sent like mirr or balme,
VVhich doth not on base fortune stand,
But safe in either storme or calme.
O God that guides each fortune now,
Preserue our court and kingdom throw.
That yeelds sweet sent like mirr or balme,
VVhich doth not on base fortune stand,
But safe in either storme or calme.
O God that guides each fortune now,
Preserue our court and kingdom throw.
FINIS.
A reply to the reasons rehersed.
Court cannot pleas, ech one that still doth craue
No more than seas, can make all sailers ritch,
Though few thereby, do gaine yet some may saue,
And keepe a meane, if folly be not mitch,
There foode is free, and all belongs to health,
Fire, rest, and ease, and pleasures of the eie,
Then for those ioies, who bids them spend their welth?
Or follow gaine, or waste their goods thereby?
If in one cloke, or sute a Lordship stands,
Blame not the court, but blame vnthrifty hands.
No more than seas, can make all sailers ritch,
Though few thereby, do gaine yet some may saue,
And keepe a meane, if folly be not mitch,
There foode is free, and all belongs to health,
Fire, rest, and ease, and pleasures of the eie,
Then for those ioies, who bids them spend their welth?
Or follow gaine, or waste their goods thereby?
If in one cloke, or sute a Lordship stands,
Blame not the court, but blame vnthrifty hands.
Though shining robes, becoms a Courtier well,
Meane men may weare, good garments of small price.
If waste will needes, his patrimony sell,
Or play away, his lands at cards and dice,
Court is not cause, of that expence and charge,
No more than plow, and carts makes Farmars poore.
If gallants gay, cuts their owne clokes too large,
That they like brooms, sweepe rushes from the doore,
Short capes in Court, were fitter for a shoe,
In such light weeds, of yore did Courtiers goe.
Meane men may weare, good garments of small price.
If waste will needes, his patrimony sell,
Or play away, his lands at cards and dice,
Court is not cause, of that expence and charge,
No more than plow, and carts makes Farmars poore.
If gallants gay, cuts their owne clokes too large,
That they like brooms, sweepe rushes from the doore,
Short capes in Court, were fitter for a shoe,
In such light weeds, of yore did Courtiers goe.
If men could sort, themselues in Court aright,
The good may meete, as good as he therein,
And stately Court, hates all lewd maners light,
No coosning knack, can there no fauour win.
Finenes and fraud, are often frownd at thear:
Dissemblance shames, to show a double face,
And though good wits, in Court can speake full fear,
Rip iudgement soone, finds out a courtly grace,
And will not be, ore reacht with shoe or signe
Of wily heads, though they be ner so fine.
The good may meete, as good as he therein,
And stately Court, hates all lewd maners light,
No coosning knack, can there no fauour win.
Finenes and fraud, are often frownd at thear:
Dissemblance shames, to show a double face,
And though good wits, in Court can speake full fear,
Rip iudgement soone, finds out a courtly grace,
And will not be, ore reacht with shoe or signe
Of wily heads, though they be ner so fine.
Court is a well, and fountaine full of springs
That runs to those, that watch their seasons due,
Who to the cock, their empty bucket brings,
When bounties streames, spouts water fresh and new.
All cannot thriue, that daily sell and by,
Some merchant prooues, bankrout ere he be ware:
All shafts will not, against ill weather flie:
They hit the marke, that cunning archers are:
Court is not bound, to pleasure eury one:
Court is a king, and subiect vnto none.
That runs to those, that watch their seasons due,
Who to the cock, their empty bucket brings,
When bounties streames, spouts water fresh and new.
All cannot thriue, that daily sell and by,
Some merchant prooues, bankrout ere he be ware:
All shafts will not, against ill weather flie:
They hit the marke, that cunning archers are:
Court is not bound, to pleasure eury one:
Court is a king, and subiect vnto none.
If fauorits rise, dame Fortunes babes they bee
Begot and bred, by sudden destnies lot,
Lads that good hap, hath dandled on hir knee,
Tooke all their pap, out of the sweete creame pot:
The rest are faire, yoong children borne to soone,
Or out of time, as many yoonglings bee
No Planets birds, nor darlings of the Moone,
Nor fixed stars, that stands in highst degree,
But retrograde, in some aspects but base
Falne fro the clouds, from Iupiters good grace.
Begot and bred, by sudden destnies lot,
Lads that good hap, hath dandled on hir knee,
Tooke all their pap, out of the sweete creame pot:
The rest are faire, yoong children borne to soone,
Or out of time, as many yoonglings bee
No Planets birds, nor darlings of the Moone,
Nor fixed stars, that stands in highst degree,
But retrograde, in some aspects but base
Falne fro the clouds, from Iupiters good grace.
Though many names, to court these Poets giues,
Whose fained Art, are full of fables vaine,
When they themselues, by gifts of Princes liues
And by the Court, their betters far do gaine,
Court cares not for, their stretched termes nor muse,
That in a moode, finds fault with this or that,
Whose hie conceits, doth out their pen abuse,
Which on the spleen, may write they know not what:
Court thinks great scorne, to stoup or seem so weake,
As answer make, to any word they speake.
Whose fained Art, are full of fables vaine,
When they themselues, by gifts of Princes liues
And by the Court, their betters far do gaine,
Court cares not for, their stretched termes nor muse,
That in a moode, finds fault with this or that,
Whose hie conceits, doth out their pen abuse,
Which on the spleen, may write they know not what:
Court thinks great scorne, to stoup or seem so weake,
As answer make, to any word they speake.
FINIS.
Churchyards cherrishing.
The wars that marshall men do like,
For countries cause was first begun,
To shield and sword, to launce and pike,
The lusty soldiers then would run,
And glad was he in towne or field,
Could force a forren foe to yeeld.
For countries cause was first begun,
To shield and sword, to launce and pike,
The lusty soldiers then would run,
And glad was he in towne or field,
Could force a forren foe to yeeld.
No walls nor rampire could hold out
A lions hart in manly minde,
Men did in courage grow so stout,
They traueld far hot wars to finde,
And when these men abrode did rome,
They brought great skill and knowledge home.
A lions hart in manly minde,
Men did in courage grow so stout,
They traueld far hot wars to finde,
And when these men abrode did rome,
They brought great skill and knowledge home.
Kings gaue them grace, and honor great,
Fame sounded trumpet in their praise,
VVorld placst them in the highest seate,
So that like gods they raignd those daise:
Yea honord, made of, and extold
Aboue the woorth of pearle or gold.
Fame sounded trumpet in their praise,
VVorld placst them in the highest seate,
So that like gods they raignd those daise:
Yea honord, made of, and extold
Aboue the woorth of pearle or gold.
By them great empires did encrease,
Kingdoms were woon, and conquerd all,
They held vp wars, they made the peace,
They had the world at becke and call:
The sword subdues, and makes them slaues,
That stands vpon their greatest braues.
Kingdoms were woon, and conquerd all,
They held vp wars, they made the peace,
They had the world at becke and call:
The sword subdues, and makes them slaues,
That stands vpon their greatest braues.
Long in this course did soldiers liue,
Beloud and feard as victors are,
They felt no want, but had to giue,
The people tooke of them such care.
Kings and their treasure eury way
Kept noble soldiers from decay.
Beloud and feard as victors are,
They felt no want, but had to giue,
The people tooke of them such care.
Kings and their treasure eury way
Kept noble soldiers from decay.
But when that kings from bounty fell,
And made but wars for their owne gaine,
The wars were then, a second hell,
Pleasure therein, was turnd to paine:
Profit was gone, honor lay lame;
And soldiers sought no more for fame.
And made but wars for their owne gaine,
The wars were then, a second hell,
Pleasure therein, was turnd to paine:
Profit was gone, honor lay lame;
And soldiers sought no more for fame.
Yet countries cause mooud men to fight,
As hirelings worke for wages still,
But take esteem, once from a knight,
You lose his hart, and warme good will,
Then after money doth he looke,
And licks his fingers like a cooke.
As hirelings worke for wages still,
But take esteem, once from a knight,
You lose his hart, and warme good will,
Then after money doth he looke,
And licks his fingers like a cooke.
VVhen kings forget to giue good turns
For good desarts: then soldier shrinks,
The lampe of loue, but dimly burns,
And God doth know, what soldier thinks:
All one we liue (both daies and weekes)
By loue as larks do liue by leekes.
For good desarts: then soldier shrinks,
The lampe of loue, but dimly burns,
And God doth know, what soldier thinks:
All one we liue (both daies and weekes)
By loue as larks do liue by leekes.
VVars now is worse, than walking horse,
For like a hackney tied at rack,
Old soldier so (who wanteth force)
Must learne to beare a pedlers pack,
And trudge to some good market towne,
So from a knight become a clowne.
For like a hackney tied at rack,
Old soldier so (who wanteth force)
Must learne to beare a pedlers pack,
And trudge to some good market towne,
So from a knight become a clowne.
As good serue sowter in his shop,
As follow wars, that beggry brings,
Nay play the childe, and driue the top
Or fauor many fonder things,
And thriue there by, seemes better far,
That run a gadding to the war.
As follow wars, that beggry brings,
Nay play the childe, and driue the top
Or fauor many fonder things,
And thriue there by, seemes better far,
That run a gadding to the war.
Wars wins the workman scarce his bread,
A fig for fame, if that be all,
VVars quickly gets a broken head,
And gaines no better fruit at all,
But when good blood is wasted out,
Into the ioints, wars thrusts the gout.
A fig for fame, if that be all,
VVars quickly gets a broken head,
And gaines no better fruit at all,
But when good blood is wasted out,
Into the ioints, wars thrusts the gout.
Lame lims and legs, and mangled bones,
VVars brings a man vnwares God wot,
VVith priuy pangs, sad sighes and grones,
Then come to court where nought is got,
Saue shauls and shels when kernell sweete
The hogs haue, trampling vnder feete.
VVars brings a man vnwares God wot,
VVith priuy pangs, sad sighes and grones,
Then come to court where nought is got,
Saue shauls and shels when kernell sweete
The hogs haue, trampling vnder feete.
If fiue and forty sons I had,
Not one to court nor wars should goe,
Except that some of them were mad,
So prooud both where I would or noe:
But wars of all the arts that is,
Stands most from hap or heauens blisse.
Not one to court nor wars should goe,
Except that some of them were mad,
So prooud both where I would or noe:
But wars of all the arts that is,
Stands most from hap or heauens blisse.
Wars is a woorme in conshence still,
That gnawes the guts and hart in twaine,
Who goes to wars must make his will,
For feare he coms not home againe:
But at his welcom home in deed,
He gets but words, so starues at need.
That gnawes the guts and hart in twaine,
Who goes to wars must make his will,
For feare he coms not home againe:
But at his welcom home in deed,
He gets but words, so starues at need.
Or at court gate must sit and watch,
Like goodman Cockscom keeping croes,
Go supperles to bed like Patch,
Or for his lodging gage his cloes:
A warme reward, a whip, a whood
Would do a silly foole more good.
Like goodman Cockscom keeping croes,
Go supperles to bed like Patch,
Or for his lodging gage his cloes:
A warme reward, a whip, a whood
Would do a silly foole more good.
Sell house and land, to follow drom,
And so bring home an empty bag,
Then like bare Tom of Bedlem com,
VVith broken breech and many a rag:
And see what pity world will take
On thee for thy great seruice sake.
And so bring home an empty bag,
Then like bare Tom of Bedlem com,
VVith broken breech and many a rag:
And see what pity world will take
On thee for thy great seruice sake.
Keepe that thou hast is counsell good,
VVhat wars may win thinke that is lost,
For prince do hazard life and blood,
If enmies breath but on this cost:
Shun other wars as from a snake,
VVhose sting a mortall wound will make.
VVhat wars may win thinke that is lost,
For prince do hazard life and blood,
If enmies breath but on this cost:
Shun other wars as from a snake,
VVhose sting a mortall wound will make.
VVars is but cald the scourge of God,
A plague for man, and each things foe,
A whisking wand, a cruell rod,
That drawes out blood at eury bloe:
A fearfull bug, a cursed feend,
That driues good daies and yeers to eend.
A plague for man, and each things foe,
A whisking wand, a cruell rod,
That drawes out blood at eury bloe:
A fearfull bug, a cursed feend,
That driues good daies and yeers to eend.
If dyuels dance when drum doth sound,
And saints do weepe, where blood is shed,
If wars doth shake the heauy ground,
VVhereon fish, fowle, and beasts are bred:
O wars packe hence, and run away,
From me and all my friends this day.
And saints do weepe, where blood is shed,
If wars doth shake the heauy ground,
VVhereon fish, fowle, and beasts are bred:
O wars packe hence, and run away,
From me and all my friends this day.
For where thou goest all plagues repaire,
All mischeeues march, all sorrowes swim,
All filthy facts, infects the aire,
All sin and vice is at the brim:
All dearth and famin are aflote,
And all or most, haue God forgote.
All mischeeues march, all sorrowes swim,
All filthy facts, infects the aire,
All sin and vice is at the brim:
All dearth and famin are aflote,
And all or most, haue God forgote.
Fie, fly from wars, as from a fire
That all burns vp, or kils in haste,
Spoiles and robs all, leaues all in mire,
Consumeth all, brings all to waste:
Yet when the wars rules all like king,
VVars is himselfe, a beggry thing.
That all burns vp, or kils in haste,
Spoiles and robs all, leaues all in mire,
Consumeth all, brings all to waste:
Yet when the wars rules all like king,
VVars is himselfe, a beggry thing.
But if proud wars, begin to brall,
And quarrels picks, to wrong our right,
Then clap on armes, corslets and all,
To put a wrangling foe to flight:
And make them run like rats away,
That robs our cheese house eury day.
And quarrels picks, to wrong our right,
Then clap on armes, corslets and all,
To put a wrangling foe to flight:
And make them run like rats away,
That robs our cheese house eury day.
Loe knights, how plaine poore poets shifts,
In scambling world to scowre the coast,
VVith rimes, and sends such new yeers gifts,
From sicke mans couch to court in poast:
VVhere this may make a merry hed,
To smile before he goes to bed.
In scambling world to scowre the coast,
VVith rimes, and sends such new yeers gifts,
From sicke mans couch to court in poast:
VVhere this may make a merry hed,
To smile before he goes to bed.
FINIS.
A reply to the reasons rehersed.
Welth, pomp and pride, with malice of the mind
Bred wars & broils, between two brethren furst,
The one feard God, the other most vnkind,
For his foule fact, in world was held accurst.
Though wars began, throw pride and great offence,
As rods are made, to scourge leud vicious life,
Yet fearfull wars, hath wrought great goodnes sence,
And planted peace, where was but blooddy strife:
Wars makes men looke, to soule and body too,
Which in no sort, proud peace can neuer doo.
Bred wars & broils, between two brethren furst,
The one feard God, the other most vnkind,
For his foule fact, in world was held accurst.
Though wars began, throw pride and great offence,
As rods are made, to scourge leud vicious life,
Yet fearfull wars, hath wrought great goodnes sence,
And planted peace, where was but blooddy strife:
Wars makes men looke, to soule and body too,
Which in no sort, proud peace can neuer doo.
Who sees but death, and danger feareth God,
A greater feare, no man aliue may haue,
As horse fears whip, and scholler fears the rod,
So sword is feard, that quickly brings a graue.
Wars makes men meeke, vertuous, valiant and wise,
Hardy and bold, forward, faithfull and true,
Goodnes imbrace, and villany despise,
Killeth old vice, and forms a man anue:
Quickneth the sprites, and kindleth courage still,
That else growes cold, weake, resty, dull and ill.
A greater feare, no man aliue may haue,
As horse fears whip, and scholler fears the rod,
So sword is feard, that quickly brings a graue.
Wars makes men meeke, vertuous, valiant and wise,
Hardy and bold, forward, faithfull and true,
Goodnes imbrace, and villany despise,
Killeth old vice, and forms a man anue:
Quickneth the sprites, and kindleth courage still,
That else growes cold, weake, resty, dull and ill.
Wars is no trade, for milksops, dawes and dolts,
Meacocks of kinde, and cowards from their birth,
A spur for old Iades, a snaffle for yoong colts,
For lusty lads, the greatest ioy on earth,
Breeds gallants vp, puts lions harts in men,
Breathes blood and life, into a trembling brest,
Makes hand draw sword, and fling away the pen,
Mount a great horse, and clap the launce in rest,
And woonders do, as Samson did in feeld,
Whose stoutnes made, the proud Philistines yeeld.
Meacocks of kinde, and cowards from their birth,
A spur for old Iades, a snaffle for yoong colts,
For lusty lads, the greatest ioy on earth,
Breeds gallants vp, puts lions harts in men,
Breathes blood and life, into a trembling brest,
Makes hand draw sword, and fling away the pen,
Mount a great horse, and clap the launce in rest,
And woonders do, as Samson did in feeld,
Whose stoutnes made, the proud Philistines yeeld.
Wars wisely made, Brings triumph to the towne,
Sends victors out, to fetch great wealth from far,
Keepes kings in seat, giues honor to the crowne,
And no great fame is found where is no war.
Set wars aside, bid men go spin and card,
Distaffs are fine, when launce is flung away,
Make no more knights, let cowards be prefard,
Set lowts aworke, bid soldiers then go play:
So pluck downe wars, and set vp Robin Whood,
Or Iohn a Stile, that near did countrey good.
Sends victors out, to fetch great wealth from far,
Keepes kings in seat, giues honor to the crowne,
And no great fame is found where is no war.
Set wars aside, bid men go spin and card,
Distaffs are fine, when launce is flung away,
Make no more knights, let cowards be prefard,
Set lowts aworke, bid soldiers then go play:
So pluck downe wars, and set vp Robin Whood,
Or Iohn a Stile, that near did countrey good.
Wars was a wand, for wantons that were wilde,
It made them tame, and greater maruels wrought,
But where you see, that wars are clean exilde,
Stout people faint, and kingdom coms to naught:
Venus and lust, are great togither still,
Right taketh wrong, and reason rules no whit,
Weake knees must bow, strong head will haue his wil,
And bayard blinde, in teeth doth take the bit:
Thus want of wars, confounds a woorthy state,
And breeds at home, both quarrels and debate.
It made them tame, and greater maruels wrought,
But where you see, that wars are clean exilde,
Stout people faint, and kingdom coms to naught:
Venus and lust, are great togither still,
Right taketh wrong, and reason rules no whit,
Weake knees must bow, strong head will haue his wil,
And bayard blinde, in teeth doth take the bit:
Thus want of wars, confounds a woorthy state,
And breeds at home, both quarrels and debate.
Wars was and is, and shall be till worlds end,
Till iudgement day, you shall haue little peace,
You say it is, a scourge that God doth send,
A common plague for sin that shall not seace,
Thinke so and make of wars your profit then,
For soule at least. thus wars ye ought to loue,
Bicause wars doth reforme the faults of men,
And by sharpe means, it doth his pashence proue:
If such effects, a blooddy wars brings foorth,
When wars doth com, do take it well in woorth.
Till iudgement day, you shall haue little peace,
You say it is, a scourge that God doth send,
A common plague for sin that shall not seace,
Thinke so and make of wars your profit then,
For soule at least. thus wars ye ought to loue,
Bicause wars doth reforme the faults of men,
And by sharpe means, it doth his pashence proue:
If such effects, a blooddy wars brings foorth,
When wars doth com, do take it well in woorth.
FINIS.
A COMMENDATION TO ALL THOSE, THAT EITHER BY INVENTION OF WIT, STVDY OF MINDE, TRAVEL of body, expences of purse, or hazard of life, seekes the aduauncement of their Prince and countrey.
The world throwout, breeds men of sundry kinds,Som of great spreet, great skil and deep engine,
Som meane and base, and som of noble minds,
Som grosse of wit, and som most rare and fine,
As gifts of grace, and nature shapes them forth,
To show themselues, in actions men of worth.
Som plant and graffe, and still manures the ground,
Gains much thereby, as labrer liues by toile,
Som loues to saile, about the world so round,
To search what may, be seen in eury soile:
Som trudge to wars, and far abrode they rome,
For knowledge sake, to serue their prince at home.
Som haue delite, to build and purchase still,
Thus all haue not, one motion, mind nor will.
But such that seekes, for fame in forren place,
Forsakes great ease, & welth where they were bred,
Are speshall men, and do deserue more grace,
Than all the rest, what euer may be sed.
Makes open sale, of life and all they haue,
Are men that may, both prince and countrey pleas,
VVho shall of right, be honord to their graue.
Then step in place, sir VValter Rawlegh now,
Show foorth thy face, among the woorthiest sort,
Thy trauell long, thy charge and labor throw,
Crowns thy great pains, with prais and good report.
Bid enuy blush, for vertue hits the white,
Malice may barke, but hath no powre to bite.
VVorld babbles much, but wit doth all behold,
The touchstone must, at length try out the gold.
VVho reads his booke, and waies what he hath don,
Shall sound his fame, as far as shines the sun.
FINIS.
| A pleasant Discourse of Court and Wars | |