⸿ The fantasies of
a troubled mannes head.
BY fortune as I lay in bed, my fortune was to fynd,
Such fancies as my careful thought hath brought into my mynd.
And when each one was gone to rest, all softe in bed to lye,
I would haue slept, but that the watch did folow styl mine eye.
And Sodeinlie I saw a Sea of wofull sorrowes prest,
Whose wicked wayes of sharpe repulse, bred mine unquiet rest:
I saw this world and how it went, ech state in his degree,
And that from Wealth ygraunted is, both lyfe and libertie.
I saw eke how Envie did raigne, and bare the greatist price,
Yet greatter poison is not found within the Cockatrice.
I saw also how fowle Disdaine, oft times to forge my woe,
Gaue me the cup of bitter sweete, to pledge my mortal foe.
I saw also how that Desier, to rest no place could fynd,
But styl constraind in endles paine, to follow natures kynd.
I saw also (most straunge of all) how Nature did forsake,
The bloud ye in her womb was wrought, as doth ye lothed Snake.
I saw how fancie would retaine no longer then shee lust,
And as the wynd how shee doth chaunge, and is not for to trust.
I saw how Stedfastnes did flye, with wynges of often chaunge,
A flyeng bird but seldome seen, her nature is so straunge.
I saw how pleasaunt times did passe, as flowers do in the mede,
To day that riseth red as Rose, to morow falleth deade.
I saw my time how it did run, as sand out of a glasse,
Euen as each owre appointed is, from time and tide to passe.
I saw the yeares that I had spent, and losse of all my payne,
And how the sporte of youthly plaies, my follie did retayne.
I saw how that the little Ants, in Somer styl doth rome,
To seke their foode wherby to liue, in Winter for to come.
I saw eke Uertue how shee sate, the threede of life to spin,
Which sheweth the end of euery worke, before it doth begin.
And when all these I thus behelde, with manie mo pardie,
In me, me thought each one had wrought a ꝑfect ꝓpertie:
And then I said unto my selfe, a lesson this shall bee,
For other that shall after come, for to beware by mee,
Thus all the night I did diuise, which way I might constrayne,
To forme a plot ye wit might worke thes braūches in my brayne.
⸿ FINIS. I. C.
Of euyll tounges,
O Euyll tounges, which clap at euerie wynd,
Ye slea the quicke, and eke the dead defame:
Those that liue well, some fault in them ye fynd,
Ye take no thought, in sclaundring their good name.
Ye put iust men, oft times to open shame,
Ye ryng so lowde, ye sound vnto the Skyes:
And yet in proofe, ye sowe nothyng but lyes.
❡ Ye make great hatred, where peace hath ben of long,
You bring good order to ruine and eke decaye:
Ye plucke downe tight, ye doe enhaunce the wrong,
Ye tourne swete myrth, to wo and wallawaye.
Of mischeifs all, you are the ground I saye,
Happie is he, that liueth on such a sorte:
That nedes not feare such tounges of false reporte.
⸿ FINIS. ꝙ I. Canand.
⸿ Of trust and triall.
Ho trusts before he tries, may soone his trust repent,
Who tries before he trusts, doth so his care preuent:
Thus trust may not be cause of triall (then we see)
But triall must be cause of trust, in ech degree.
⸿ FINIS. B. G.
A strife betwene
Appelles and Pigmalion.
WHen that Appelles lived in Grece,
Pigmalion also raigned than:
These two did striue to frame a pece,
Which should amaze the sight of man.
Whereby they might win such a name,
As should deserue immortall fame.
⸿ Appelles then strayed euerie where,
To marke and viewe ech courtlie Dame:
And when he heard where any were,
Did well deserue the prayse and fame:
He thither rode with willyng harte,
Of her to take the cumliest parte.
⸿ And when he had with trauaile great,
A thousand wights knit vp in one:
He found therewith to wurke his feat,
A paterne such, as earst was none.
And then with ioye retourned backe,
For to those limmes, but lyfe did lacke.
⸿ Pigmalion eke, to shew his arte,
Did then conclude, in Iuorie white
To forme and frame in euerie parte,
A woman fayre to his delighte.
Wherein was euerie limme so coucht,
As not a vayne he lefte untoucht.
⸿ When their two cunnings ioyned were,
A worlde it was to see their wurke:
But yet it may greue euerie eare,
To heare the chaunce did therein lurke.
For through the pece they framed had,
For loue, Pigmalion did run mad.
⸿ Which seene, Appelles shut his booke,
And durst no longer viewe that sight:
For why? her comelie limmes and looke,
In one did passe ech other wight.
And while Appelles wiped his eye,
The pece did mount unto the Skye.
⸿ Where as dame Nature toke it straight,
And wrapte it up in linnen folde:
Esteeming it more, then the waight
Had ten times ben of glistryng golde.
Shee lockt it vp fast in a chest,
To pleasure him that shee loued best.
⸿ Appelles then dismayed much,
Did throw his booke in to the fire:
He feared lest the Gods did grutch,
That wurkemen should so high aspire.
Yet once agayne he trauailed Grece,
With lesse effect, and made a pece.
⸿ Which long time did hold great renowne
For Venus all men did it call:
Tyll in our dayes gan Nature frowne,
And gaue the workemannes worke a fall.
For, from her chest t’ auoyde all stryfe,
Shee tooke the pece, and gaue it lyfe.
⸿ And for a token gaue the same,
Unto the highest man of state:
And said: since thou art crownd by Fame,
Take to thee here, this worthie mate.
The same which kyld the caruers strife,
Before that Nature gaue it life.
⸿ Lorde, yf Appeles now did know,
Or yf Pigmalion once should heare:
Of this their worke the worthie show,
Since Nature gaue it life to beare.
No doubt at all, her worthie prayse,
Those selie Grekes from death wold rayse.
⸿ Then those that daylie see her grace,
Whose vertue passeth euerie wight:
Her comelie corps, her christall face,
They ought to pray both day and night.
That God may graunt most happie state,
Unto that Princesse and her mate.
⸿ FINIS. Ber. Gar.
❧ Imprinted at London without
Aldersgate in little Britaine, by A. Lacy.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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