English

Sonet . 4

Tell mee, tell mee pretty Muse,
Canst thou neither will nor chuse
But he busie with my braine,
Still to put my wits to paine?
Shall my heart within my brest.
Neuer haue an hower of Rest?

Idle humor what doth ayle thee?
Not a thought that can auayle thee:
Be thou neere so woe begon thee
Beautie will not looke vpon thee,
Fortune wholy hath forlorne thee,
And for loue it hath forsworne thee.

But if vertue haue procurd thee,

Sonet . 3

Foolish loue is onely folly,
Wanton Loue is too vnholly:
Greedy loue is couetous,
Idle loue is friuolous,
But the gratious loue is it:
That doth prooue the worth of wit.

Beautie but deceiues the eye,
Flatteric leades the eare awrye:
Welth doth but inchaunt the wit
Want the ouerthrowe of it.
While in wisdome's worthy Grace
Vertue sees the sweetest face.

There hath loue found out his life.
Peace without all thought of strife:

Sonet 2

V P on the Hill of happinesse,
In beautie's Gratious blessednes:
Bonerto's fairest Shepheardesse,
In wisdome's honors worthinesse:
Aglaia liues, long may shee liue.
The worth that doth this wonder giue.

An Eye in which faire beautie's light
Hath none of Phaebus killing sight:
But of a farre more heauenly Grace,
To warme the heart, not burne the face:
A fore-head that faire fronte of blisse
That shewes where beautie graced is.

Sonet I

Now for the last farewell I meane to make,
To all the troubles, of my tired thought:
This leaue at last, and this last leaue I take,
Of some and all that haue my sorrowe sought.

First youth farewell the fore Runner of wit,
A time more staide, hath taught me better stages,
Then where repentance doth with sorrowe sit
To shew the ruines of vnbridled Ages.

Next farewell Beautie thou bewitching glasse,
That blind'st the eye, of all unseason'd seeing:

When that a churle doth grow so prodigal,
He cares not how he throw away his coyne
And a wise man growes so fantasticall,
As with a foole will for his counsell ioyne
And that a Fencer layes away his foyne,
And a yong spend-thrift falles to purchase land:
I feare that Doomes day will be hard at hand.

When that a Lawyer leaues to take a fee,
And that a trades man will not sell for gaine,
When euery Iudge will so indifferent be,
Euen as he sees to shew the matter plaine,
When that the world is growne to such a vaine:

A logger headed asse that hath no wit,
A rascall knaue that hath no honesty,
A foule ilfauour'd filthie baggage Tit,
A wicked Iudge that hath no equity,
And a rich man that hath no charity,
A faithlesse friend, and from a fruitlesse tree:
The Lord of heau'n and earth deliuer me.

A gracelesse child, and an vnquiet wife,
An idle seruant, and a priuy theefe,
A long delay, and an vngodly life,
A helplesse care, and a consuming griefe,

He that desires from danger safe to passe
Along the world, his wofull wretched daies,
And would behold (as in a looking glasse)
The blocks and stops, and such vnhappy staies,
As crosse a thousand in their very waies:
Let him but creepe as I haue learnd to go,
And tell me if it do him good or no.

He that will passe neere to a Princes Court,
Let him take heede his tongue breake not his necke;
Nor mate himselfe among the Noble sort,
Lest prowde presumption haue too sore a checke,

A solempne and repentant Prayer, for former life mispent.
O H heavenly Lord, who plain doost see
y e thoughts of ech mas heart:
Who sendest some continuall plague
& some release of smart:
Pittie, O Lorde, the wofull state
wherein I dayly stand,
And onely for thy mercies sake
now helpe me, out of hande.
And as it was thy pleasure fyrst,
to plague me thus with greefe:

Verses made upon this Theame:

Little medling breedes mickle rest

M Y youthfull yeares are spent,
old age comes stealing on,
And bids me now, fond Fancies fits,
no more to thinke vpon
Of worthy Wisdome I,
some lessons now haue learnde
Whereby the difference twixt wit
and will I haue discernde:
Among all which, this one
where euer so I be,
To keepe still secrete to my selfe

A Gentleman beeing in his friends house, in the Country, was by him earnestly intreated after Dinner, before his departure, to make him some verses. But would giue him no theame to write vpon: he, not knowing what to write that best mought like his fancie, yet willing to graunt his request, wrote as followeth.
Needs must I write, & know not what:
why then euen as it is,
Accept the same, and blame me not
if ought you find amis.
On bushy bankes what else,