Februarie.
To which purpoſe the olde maw telleth a tale of the Oake and the Bryer, ſ o liuely and ſo feelingly, as, if the thing were ſet forth in ſome Picture before our eyes more plainly could not appeare.
Cuddie.Thenot.
AH for pitti, will rancke Winter rage,
Theſe bitter blaſtes neuer ginnetail wage.
The kene cold blowes though my beaten hide,
All as I were though the body gride.
My ragged rontes all ſhiner and ſhake,
As doen high Lowers in an earthquake:
They woont in the winde wagge their wriggle tayles,
Perke as a Peacocke: but now iC auailes.
Thenot.
Lewdty complaineſt thou laeſie ladde,
Of Winters wracke for making thee fadde,
Duſt not the worlde wend int bis common courſe
From good to badd, and from badve to worſe,
From worſe unto that ts worſt of all,
And then returne to his former fall?
Who will not ſuffer the ſtormie time,
Where will he liue till the luſtie prime?
Selfe have I worne out thriſe thirtie yeers,
Some in much ioy, many many teares:
Yet neuer complained of cold nor heate,
Of Sommers flame, nor of Winters threate:
Ne ever was to Fortune foeman,
But gently tooke, that vngently came.
And euer my flocke was my chiefe care,
Winter or Sommer they mought well fare.
Cuddie.
No marueile Thenot, if thou can beare
Cherefully the Winters wrathfull cheare:
For age and winter accord full nie,
This chill, that cold, this crooked, that wrye.
And as the lowring Wether lookes downe,
So
