A Golden Mirrour Conteining certaine Pithie and figuratiue Visions prognosticating good fortune to England and all true English Subiectes with an ouerthrowe to the enemies. Whereto be adioyned certaine pretie Poemes written on the names of sundrie both noble and worshipfull [by Richard Robinson] |
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Verses pend vpon the Etimologie of the name of the right honorable,
Fardinando, Lord Strange.
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 | A Golden Mirrour |  |
Verses pend vpon the Etimologie of the name of the right honorable, Fardinando, Lord Strange.
Fame
in her flight, by chance found me
Asleepe vpon a banke,
And in a furie, said that she
Would yeeld me litle thanke,
To sleepe when thou shouldst wake, and write,
Sith I (said she) wil now indite.
Arise (quoth she) write after me,
My sentence doe not change,
Here shalt thou view a creature true,
Who may be called Strange.
Asleepe vpon a banke,
And in a furie, said that she
Would yeeld me litle thanke,
To sleepe when thou shouldst wake, and write,
Arise (quoth she) write after me,
My sentence doe not change,
Here shalt thou view a creature true,
Who may be called Strange.
And if thou learned be quoth shee,
Beholde the noble Wight:
Whose modest minde apeares to be
A wise and vertuous Knight:
Descent of noble Parentage,
And rarest creature of his age:
A man so fixt and firme of fayth,
That neuer yet did change,
And standes to trueth for life or death,
This man is very Strange:
Beholde the noble Wight:
Whose modest minde apeares to be
A wise and vertuous Knight:
Descent of noble Parentage,
And rarest creature of his age:
A man so fixt and firme of fayth,
That neuer yet did change,
And standes to trueth for life or death,
This man is very Strange:
Recorded is his life by mee,
Within my house of fame:
From age to age his memorie
Shall still aduance his name.
(Quoth she) because his noble giftes
Doe put his equals to their shiftes
Let poore men iudge, that want refuge,
That find their Landlords change,
He takes th'olde rent, and is content:
Which may be called Strange.
Within my house of fame:
From age to age his memorie
Shall still aduance his name.
(Quoth she) because his noble giftes
Doe put his equals to their shiftes
Let poore men iudge, that want refuge,
That find their Landlords change,
He takes th'olde rent, and is content:
Which may be called Strange.
Doubtlesse (quoth Fame) thou maist be bolde
To write what I shall say:
Strange is his vertues to beholde,
Among the rest this day:
He serueth God in humble wise,
His Princes foes he doth dispise.
His lowly minde men euer finde,
Still fixed not to change.
Which winnes mens harts in euery parts,
And that must needes be straunge.
To write what I shall say:
Strange is his vertues to beholde,
Among the rest this day:
He serueth God in humble wise,
His Princes foes he doth dispise.
His lowly minde men euer finde,
Still fixed not to change.
And that must needes be straunge.
Esteemde he is, of Noble Prince,
And of all gentle blood:
His like before his tyme, nor since,
For vertuous giftes and good:
I neuer knew, nor neuer shall,
Though I to mynde with pen should call:
All histories of auncient age,
Yet I should finde some chaunge:
His part he playes vpon the stage,
Exceedeth very Straunge.
And of all gentle blood:
His like before his tyme, nor since,
For vertuous giftes and good:
I neuer knew, nor neuer shall,
Though I to mynde with pen should call:
All histories of auncient age,
Yet I should finde some chaunge:
His part he playes vpon the stage,
Exceedeth very Straunge.
No pride perceiued in his brest,
No hautie heart he beares:
And where is neede, to helpe vs prest,
And thus he spends his yeares:
No harme to any hath he wisht,
Nor for a poore mans profite fisht:
Doubtles his life, to man and wife,
Doth show in him no chaunge:
But sure, eche houre vnto his power,
Among the rest, is Straunge.
No hautie heart he beares:
And where is neede, to helpe vs prest,
And thus he spends his yeares:
No harme to any hath he wisht,
Nor for a poore mans profite fisht:
Doubtles his life, to man and wife,
Doth show in him no chaunge:
But sure, eche houre vnto his power,
Among the rest, is Straunge.
Of worldly wealth, he makes no coumpt,
He wayes his honor more:
Loue to his seruants doth surmount,
And to his tenaunts poore:
Of countrey still, he taketh care,
And for the common wealth prepare:
Remembring well, that fame will tell,
What people loue to chaunge:
Therfore I say, this present day,
He may be called Straunge.
He wayes his honor more:
Loue to his seruants doth surmount,
And to his tenaunts poore:
Of countrey still, he taketh care,
And for the common wealth prepare:
Remembring well, that fame will tell,
What people loue to chaunge:
Therfore I say, this present day,
He may be called Straunge.
Death doubts he not, in Princes causes,
So true of faith is hee:
To serue and prosecute her lawes,
He cares not who they bee:
Refusing neither night nor day,
All tydes, and tymes, he takes the way:
No fauor feare, no frend, nor foe,
Can cause his mynde to chaunge,
No gayne nor payne, can tempt him so,
And that is very Straunge.
So true of faith is hee:
To serue and prosecute her lawes,
He cares not who they bee:
Refusing neither night nor day,
All tydes, and tymes, he takes the way:
No fauor feare, no frend, nor foe,
Can cause his mynde to chaunge,
No gayne nor payne, can tempt him so,
And that is very Straunge.
If I should make report (quoth Fame)
Of halfe his golden giftes:
Except that Tullie were thy name,
Thy pen were put to shiftes:
Go to therfore, and write (sayd she)
And I therewith abroad will flee:
And euery eare, of him shall heare,
That neuer yet did chaunge:
But sure as rocke, and all his stocke,
And that is onely Straunge.
Of halfe his golden giftes:
Except that Tullie were thy name,
Thy pen were put to shiftes:
Go to therfore, and write (sayd she)
And I therewith abroad will flee:
And euery eare, of him shall heare,
That neuer yet did chaunge:
But sure as rocke, and all his stocke,
And that is onely Straunge.
He loueth men, much more then sheepe,
That some doe most delite:
He pities people poore that weepe,
When wrong hath wrought them spite:
He gently heares their greeued causes,
And doth with iustice vse the lawes:
By force he wayes no wight with power,
Nor mynde, with winde doth chaunge:
As many doe this presente houre,
But now that is not straunge.
That some doe most delite:
He pities people poore that weepe,
When wrong hath wrought them spite:
He gently heares their greeued causes,
And doth with iustice vse the lawes:
By force he wayes no wight with power,
Nor mynde, with winde doth chaunge:
As many doe this presente houre,
But now that is not straunge.
Not markes and pounds, but hawkes and hounds,
Is euer his desire:
He layes not gether poores mens grounds,
He is no countrey stroyer:
He liues in loue, of rich and poore,
Sufficient he doth call his store:
Full well knowes he, that men must dye,
And therefore will not chaunge:
But liues content, with auncient rent,
Which argues to be Straunge.
Is euer his desire:
He layes not gether poores mens grounds,
He liues in loue, of rich and poore,
Sufficient he doth call his store:
Full well knowes he, that men must dye,
And therefore will not chaunge:
But liues content, with auncient rent,
Which argues to be Straunge.
Thus did I write, and Fame indite,
Me thought that present tyme:
For in the sense, I had delite,
To studie euery line:
Loe this in sleepe, me thought I heard,
Of Fame, which bad me take regard:
With painefull pen, to tell all men,
That it might neuer chaunge:
Then out of sight, she tooke her flight,
And bad me thinke of Straunge.
Me thought that present tyme:
For in the sense, I had delite,
To studie euery line:
Loe this in sleepe, me thought I heard,
Of Fame, which bad me take regard:
With painefull pen, to tell all men,
That it might neuer chaunge:
Then out of sight, she tooke her flight,
And bad me thinke of Straunge.
Then wakened I, with weeping eyes,
To call my Dreame to mynde:
Because I see, such men as these,
In England hard to finde:
Alas therefore, what should I say,
It is the cause poore men decay:
Uice taketh place, for want of grace,
So many loue to chaunge:
Thus haue I pen'd, and also end,
My Dreame of Noble Straunge.
To call my Dreame to mynde:
Because I see, such men as these,
In England hard to finde:
Alas therefore, what should I say,
It is the cause poore men decay:
Uice taketh place, for want of grace,
So many loue to chaunge:
Thus haue I pen'd, and also end,
My Dreame of Noble Straunge.
FINIS.
| A Golden Mirrour | |