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A poore Knight his Pallace of priuate pleasures

Gallantly garnished, with goodly Galleries of strang inuentio[n]s and prudently polished, with sundry pleasant Posies, & other fine fancies of dainty deuices, and rare delightes. Written by a student in Ca[m]bridge. And published by I. C. Gent

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To Abraham Iohnson.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

To Abraham Iohnson.

Nusquam tuta fides.

If Auncient writs doo beare recorde, and seeme the truth to tell,
No faithfull freendship as I finde, in mortall men doo dwell.
For why? the Father sley the Sonne, the Sonne the Father kill,
Upon the Sonne, and father eke, the mother worke her will.
The Brother with the Sister iar, the daughters bane prepare,
To see the Mothers finall end, and pay the fathers share.
The kinsmen stands aloofe and see, the one not trust the other,
The naybors as the kinsmen all, haue banisht fayth together.
The foe sees this, and gins to smile, for strife doth like him best,
The rauening Coocko layes her egges, within the Sparrowes nest.
And euery thing runnes out of course our time is almost spent,
The night is almost neere at hand, tis time for to repent.
Wherfore my freend, counsell thy freend, as I shall counsell thee,
For to prepare against that time, when direfull dome shal bee.