 | "Songes and Sonettes written by the ryght honorable
Lorde Henry Haward late Earle of Surrey, and other" |  |
The plage is great
Of Fortune, and Fame.
The plage is great, where fortune frownes:One mischief bringes a thousand woes
Where trumpets geue their warlike sownes:
The weake sustain sharp ouerthrowes.
No better life they taste, and fele:
That subiect are to fortunes whele.
Her happy chance may last no time:
Her pleasure threatneth paines to come.
She is the fall of those, that clime:
And yet her whele auanceth some.
No force, where that she hates, or loues:
Her ficle minde so oft remoues.
She geues no gift, but craues as fast.
She soone repentes a thankful dede.
She turneth after euery blast.
She helpes them oft, that haue no nede.
Where power dwelles, and riches rest:
False fortune is a common gest,
Yet some affirm, and proue by skyll:
Fortune is not as fleyng Fame,
She neither can do good, nor yll.
She hath no fourme, yet beares a name.
Then we but striue agaynst the streames,
To frame such toyes on fansies dreames.
If she haue shape, or name alone:
If she do rule, or beare no sway:
If she haue bodie, lief, or none:
Be she a sprite I cannot say.
But well I wot, some cause there is:
That causeth wo, and sendeth blisse.
The cause of thinges I will not blame:
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Lest I offend the prince of peas.
But I may chide, and braule with Fame:
To make her crye, and neuer cease.
To blow the trump within her eares:
That may apease my wofull teares.
| "Songes and Sonettes written by the ryght honorable
Lorde Henry Haward late Earle of Surrey, and other" | |