¶ A very proper ditty:  
to the tune of lighty love.  
¶ Leave lighty love Ladies, for fear of ill name:  
And True love embrace ye, to purchase your Fame.  

BY force I am fixed my fancy to writ,  
Ingratitude willeth me not to refrain:  
Then blame me not Ladies although I indite  
What lighty love now amongst you doth reign  
Your traces in places, with outward allurements  
Doth move my endeavour to be the more plain:  
Your nicings and ticing, with sundry procurementes  
To publish your lighty love doth me constrain.   

¶ Deceit is not dainty, it comes at each dish,  
Fraud goes a fishing with friendly looks,  
Through friendship is spoiled the silly poor fish,  
That boover and shover upon your false hooks,  
With bait, you lay weight, to catch here and there,  
Which causeth poor fishes their freedom to loose:  
Then lout ye, and flout ye, whereby doth appear,  
Your lighty love Ladies, still cloaked with gloze.   

¶ With DIANA so chaste, you seem to compare,  
When HELEN'S you be, and hung on her train:  
Me thinks faithful Thisbe's, be now very rare,  
Not one CLEOPATRA, I doubt doth remain:  
You wink, and you twink, till Cupid have caught,  
And forceth through flames your Lovers to sue:  
Your lyghtie love Ladies, too dear they have bought,  
When nothing will move you, their causes to rue.   

¶ I speak not for spite, ne do I disdain,  
Your beauty fair Ladies, in any respect:  
But ones Ingratitude doth me constrain,  
As child hurt with fire, the same to neglect:  
For proving in loving, I find by good trial,  
When Beauty had brought me unto her beck:  
She staying, not weighing, but made a denial,  
And she wing her lighty love, gave me the check.   

¶ Thus fraud for friendship, did lodge in her breast,  
Such are most women, that when they espy,  
Their lovers inflamed with sorrows oppressed,  
They stand then with Cupid against their reply  
They taunt, and they vaunt, they smile when they view  
How Cupid had caught them under his train,  
But warned, discerned, the proof is most true,  
That lighty love Ladies, amongst you doth reign.   

¶ It seems by your doings, that Cressida doth school ye,  
Penelopeys' virtues are clean out of thought:  
Me thinks by your constantness, Heleyne doth rule ye,  
Which, both Greece and Troy, to ruin hath brought:  
Not doubt, to tell out, your manifold drifts,  
Would show you as constant, as is the Sea sand:  
To trust so unjust, that all is but shieftes,  
With lighty love bearing your lovers in hand.   

¶ If ARGUS were living, whose eyes were in number▪  
The Peacocks plume painted, as Wri; ters reply,  
Yet Women by wiles, full sore would him ●umber,  
For all his quick eyes, their drifts to espy:  
Such feats, with disceates, they daily frequent,  
To conquer men's minds, their humours to feed,  
That boldly I may give Arbittrement:  
Of this your lighty love, Ladies in deed.   

¶ The men that are subject to Cupid his struck,  
And therein seemeth to have your delight:  
Think when you see bait, there's hidden a hook,  
Which sure will ●ane you, if that you do bite:  
Such wiles, and such guiles, by women are wrought  
That half their mischiefs, men cannot prevent,  
When they are most pleasant, unto your thought,  
Then nothing but lighty love, is their intent.   

¶ Consider that poison doth lurk oftentime  
In shape of sugar, to put some to pain:  
And fair words painted, as Daws can define,  
The old Proverb saith, doth make some fools feign:  
Be wise and precise, take warning by me,  
Trust not the Crocodile, lest you do rue:  
To women's fair words, do never agree:  
For all is but lighty love, this is most true.   

¶ ANEXES so dainty, Example may be,  
Whose lighty love caused young IPHIS his woe,  
His true love was tried by death, as you see,  
Her lighty love forced the Knight thereunto:  
For shame then refrain, you Ladies therefore,  
The Clouds they do vanish, and light doth appear:  
You can not dissemble, nor hide it no more  
Your love is but lighty love, this is most clear.   

¶ For Troilus tried the same over well,  
In loving his Lady, as Fame doth report:  
And likewise Menander, as Stories doth tell,  
Who swum the salt Seas, to his love, to resort:  
So true, that I rue, such lovers should loose  
Their labour in seeking their Ladies unkind:  
Whose love, they did prove, as the Proverb now goes  
Even very lighty love, lodged in their mind.   

¶ I touch no such Ladies, as true love embrace,  
But such as to lighty love daily apply:  
And none will be grieved, in this kind of case,  
Save such as are minded, true love to deny:  
Yet friendly and kindly, I show you my mind,  
Fair Ladies I wish you, to use it no more,  
But say what you list, thus I have defined,  
That lighty love Ladies, you aught to abhor.   

¶ To trust women's words, in any respect,  
The danger by me right well it is seen:  
And Love and his Laws, who would not neglect,  
The trial whereof, most perilous been:  
Pretending, the ending, if I have offended,  
I crave of you Ladies an Answer again:  
amend, and what's said, shall soon be amended,  
If case that your lighty love, no longer do rain.   By Leonarde Gybson. 
¶ FINIS.   

¶ Imprinted at London, in the upper end of Fléetlane, by Richard Ihones: and are to be sold at his shop joining to the south-west Door of Saint Paul's Church.  
¶ * ⁋   

An Epitaph on the death of the virtuous Matron, the Lady Majoress, late wife to the right Honourable Lord, (Alexander Auenet) Lord Mayor of the City of London. Who deceased the seven. Day of july. 1570.  
Help now ye Muses nine, power out your Notes of woe:  
Aid me with piteous piercing plaints, the l●●●● of her to shoe.  
Whose Virtues (maugre Death,) shall live and last for ay:  
As flying Fame in Golden Trump, doth cheerfully display.  
You Ladies leave your sports: your Pastimes set aside  
To weep this Ladies Fatal fine: Cunduictes of streams provide.  
Cast off your costly Silks: your jewels now forsake:  
To deck yourselves in mourning Weeds, now poastynge haste do make:  
Help now ye faithful wives, to wail this faithful Wife:  
Whose flowing Virtues were not hid, while she enjoyed life,  
As well to Friend as Foe, her Courtesy was known:  
But now the Gods have thought it good, to claim again their own.  
LUCINA hath forgot her charged, the fatal Fates have done:  
CLOTHO hath left the Rock of life: and LACHAS long hath spon.  
These weary of their wonted toil, at mighty joves Decree:  
To whom the Heavens the Earth and Sea: and all things Subject be.  
The Sister dire, fierce ATROPOS, with schortching cutting Knife,  
Hath shred the Thread that long did hold, this Godly Lady's life.  
Whose loss dear Dames bewail: and weep with many a tear:  
For you shall miss a Matron grave, in danger you to cheer.  
Whose Counsel in their need, her Neighbours could not want:  
Her Help unto the Comfortless, could never yet be scant.  
Unto the poor oppressed, with Sickness, grief and pain:  
To minister and give relief: her heart was ever fain.  
The Poor have lost a Nurse, to help their needy state:  
The Rich shall want a perfect Friend: as they can well relate.  
Thus Rich and Poor shall want, her Aid at every need,  
For both Estates in danger deep: she laboured to feed.  
The Rich with Counsels sweet, to cherish still she thought:  
The Poor by Alms and liberal Gifts: to tender long she sought.  
But who shall have the greatest loss: I know is not unknown,  
Her best beloved: the Wight whom she, accounted for her own.  
The Lord MAYOR which now doth rule: in LONDON noble City:  
Shall want her sight, (the greater grief, to miss a Mate so witty  
A phoenix rare, a Turtell true, so constant in her love:  
That Nature needs must show her Force, her husbands Tears to move  
Who for the loss of such a Wife: can sobbing Sighs refrain?  
In whom so many Virtues did, continued and remain.  
You Damsels dear Domestical, which in her House abide:  
Have cause to wail, for you have lost a good and godly Guide.  
Whose Lenity and gentle heart, you all have known and felt:  
For unto you in Courteous sort, her Gifts she ever dealt.  
You Officers that daily serve, her Lord at every need:  
Can testify that you have lost, a Lady kind in deed.  
So gentle, grave, demure and wise: as ye yourselves express:  
That needs ye must gush forth your Tears: and weep with bitterness  
In fine, both Rich and Poor, have just cause given to wail:  
The Rich in Counsel lack a Friend, the Poor their Comfort fail.  
The Troop of married Dames, which shall her Virtues know:  
Have offered cause, in bitter Tears, some time for to bestow.  
But sith it is the Gods Decree, to whom all Flesh must bend:  
To take this Lady from the earth, and bring her days to end.  
Who can withhold that they will have? who dare their will withstand?  
To vain it were for mortal men, the cause to take in hand  
Her Virtues were so great, that they have thought it meet:  
To take from hence unto the Heavens, her Crystal Soul so sweet.  
Which now enclosed is, with Angels round about:  
Such hope we have, no other cause, is given us for to doubt.  
Her Corpse shall shroud in Clay, the Earth her right doth crave:  
This Lady yields her Parent too: her Tomb, her Cell and Grave.  
From whence, no King nor Keysar can, nor Ruler bearing sway:  
For all their Force and Puissance, once start or go away.  
All Flesh shall have an end: as Gods do grant and will:  
And reap reward as they deserve, hap good, or hap it ill.  
But though that Death have done his worst, this Dame to take away:  
In spite of Death, her Virtues shall endure and last for ay.  
¶ Farewell (O Lady Dear) the Heavens have chosen thee  
receive this VALE, I have done: thou gettest no more of me.  
Post Funera vivit virtus.  Quoth john Philip.  

Imprinted at London by Richard johnes.