New Sonnets, and pretty Pamphlets.  
Written by Thomas Howell Gentleman.  
Newly augmented, corrected and amended.  
¶ Imprinted at London in Flete street, at the sign of the S. john Evangelist, by Thomas Colwell.   

¶ To his approved 〈◊〉 Master Henry Lassels Gentleman, Thomas Howell wisheth heartily well.  
WHen I had first gathered together these few simple Sonnets, I thought nothing less, then to commit so unskilful a collection of fond fancies, unto the Printers charge, having persuaded myself before, that they were grown in a more fruitless soil, and unlearned head, then may well answer, either the expectation of the friendly Reader, either the judgements of the learned either the freidly ear to which I now commend them, whose cheerful ledes of friendship so●●en ●n me a fruitless Field, do justly require more profitable, & more plentiful 〈◊〉 than these trifling toys are. But afterwards I had purposed to imprint them, being required eftsoon, by such a friend, to whose earnest request in this matter (after many denials) I did seem (as reason would) partly to yield▪ adventuring rather the blazing a broad of these few Fancies, to the plain declaring of my vnlearnednesse and ignorance, then by unfreindly denial to repel the earnest desires of such my approved friend. I thought none more meet to whom I should present than then, unto you) my friend good Ma●●er Lasiels) being a friend faithful a hearty helper▪ & a well-willer of mine, not doubting, that you will as well accept the purpose of my Pen herein, as I do already conceive of you by offering the same the only good will of my well-meaning heart. Though they be in deed bore toys of small effect, yet take them as cheerful as Lewes once King of France, accepted the hearty gift of a poor man, but a rude present for a Prince, being only a slender Radish root, which he yet (considering not the value of the root but the good will of the giver rooted in his heart) highly esteemed before all other costly jewels. So if small gifts en crease a good opinion and a good opinion augmenteth love, and love by proof establisheth friendship, and doth ratify the same, I doubt not then, but that this sign and small gift, or rathe simple shift shallbe an occasion to ratify that good will of yours with, my intent is either to requited if I might, or remember as I can, or at the lest wise not to tread it under foot as I will not, to show such ingratitude, the savage beast the Lion would not, where of Aulus Gellius maketh his report. Wherefore good Master Lassels, receive these my base and barren labours, which in sign of this new returned year I give unto you, committing it to the judgements of the skilful, whose favour I crave, for that my Pen is not as well perfected as I would wish it, both for the Readers commodity, and also the pleasure of you my friend, for whose cause I know it shall bear the less reproach, and of some more accepted, in doing whereof I shall confess a token of your friendship more added to the number of proofs which I have at sundry times received of you before. Far ye well.  
Your assured friend Thomas Howell.   

TO HIS FAITHFUL AND Fellow Master Henry Lassels.  

SOme prudent heads: with policy, do ponder how to please, the friendly man by whose desert, they have found help or ease,  
And other some: there be again, which valiantly do seek, to do some deed by venture great, that lookers on might like,  
whereby Dame Fame should never cease, triumphant Trumpets to solid, the policy and valientnesse, which hath in them been found.  
But I offrancke, and mere good will, and not to gain the praise, as one that wanth a cunning skill, to imetate their ways.  
Do present these my trifling toys, and far unconning writes: remembering how the wise man says, the change of things, delights.  
Which not alone appeareth true, by meats whereon we feed, but change in all things doth renew, the appetite in deed:  
When as the Uitale spirits be filled, with view of learned Book, the world eyes do willing crave, on lighter things to look,  
And Music sound, doth much delight, the ears and mind of man, whose pleasant tunes, so mighty be, that banish cares they can:  
The cause for which, it hath this gift, is the variety, in it contained, by learned shift, of skilful Harmony.  
Doth not the sound: of homely Pipe, that Shepperds rudely blow, refresh the hearts: of rustic rout, their simple skill to shoe.  
Which is sufficient proof enough that change contents the mind, wherefore I will: prick on my Plough, some further change to find  
By tilling often my fruitless field, whose bore and barin soil, god knows hath scarce the power to yield, one Corn for all my toil,  
But yet where wanth the finer flower, the coarsest sort doth ease: in like case things of little power, the mind sometime may please,  
Accept therefore my Lassels true, these toys in friendly part, from him that means: to thee naught else, but show of faithful heart:  
Use them for change: as Music rude, for such is sure their grace, Or else as coarsest flour is used, when fine is out of place.   
Thy till not his own Thomas Howell.   

john Keeper Student to the Upright Reader of these pretty Pamphilets.  

AS Field is none so ill, where fruitless weeds do grow, but that some herb of virtue good, his pearyng flowers may show  
So though in Howels soil, ilwillers seem to see, at first naught else but thriftless thorns, and Thistles wild to be:  
Yet who shall view his Fields, and rightly them peruse, shall see that fruits and fruitful Herbs, do spring of his sweet muse:  
For plainly he depayntes, the fits of youthful love: whose modest Pen from honest act, no mindful man will move.  
Here learn affects to rule, and youth in care to spend, beware thou mayst by others harms, how youthly toys do end:  
Here reap, with other fruits, precepts of mortal mind. Are these no Herbs of goodly grace, in fertile Field to find?  
Also his fined phrase, shall get deserved praise, whose cunning verse of youthly years, grave acts of age displays.  
Wish him more works to Pen, by this his tried skill: and hope to see by tract of time, more fruits of painful quill.  
To Howels happy hand, restore thou thanks for this, and wish him after death to live, in witty works of his.   
Finis.   

JOANNES keeper OXON. AD tho Howell.  

AVreamellislui voluuntur scripta Goweri,  
Chauceri florent acta diserta senis,  
Sic quoque Chauterida similis captobis honores,  
Perg●re si vigilans ut modo pergis aves,  
Vibene c●pisti, nullos male linque labores,  
Gloria sudore est, desidiāque dolor.   
Finis.   

William Howell. to his Brother's Book.  

GO Book whereas thou mayst the best to please:  
Pass not for curious heads or foolish brains,  
Of learned see thou crave thy grief to ease,  
With rigour not to judge where love remains,  
Go yet I say the best to please, be true,  
Care not for them that mend Appelles' show.   
FINIS.   

  

He declareth his great mishaps, and lamentable sorrows of heart.  

WHen each wight wonted is, to take by nature rest,  
I lie alas through gréeping grief, and thought so sore oppressed,  
That from my going to bead, until the time I rise,  
Sleep once hath scarce the power to close my weeping wakeful eyes,  
In which long loathsome nights, my Pen full often I blame,  
For that the woeful state of me t'indite he doth not frame:  
Whose youthful years and days, by nature were not ripe,  
When cruel fate them clean cut of, at one most sudden wipe:  
Though life do yet remain to length my time in tears,  
Which flying fame seems not to cease, to blow in each wights ears,  
For sing me often God knows, a heavy heart to bear,  
When outwardly I seem to show, a glad and merry cheer,  
And eke a careful mind, more troublously ytossed,  
Then is the shipman on the Sea, in danger nigh the lost:  
Whose care no greater is, than life and goods to save,  
When I of God continually, with humble voice do crave,  
That he by death will quite, my grief away expel,  
And give to me a place among, the saved souls to devil:  
Which now long times have been, so tossed with unrest,  
That scarce I may the woes sustain, that lie in woeful breast,  
To think on my mishaps, which do me still betide,  
When happy hap to find redress, full fast away doth glide,  
What greater grief may grow in any honest mind,  
Then is to want such wonted wealth, as it some time did find:  
Such providence for man, doth Fortune often procure,  
When smilingly she seems to train, with bait of golden leure,  
By mean whereof she will, a cankered poison lay,  
Full closely couched in pleasant bait, with that poor soul to tray,  
As I but lately tried, who doth her baits so taste,  
That secretly I sup the smarts, which cause me pine and waste:  
Would God when I began, to enter first to life,  
That present death had pierced my heart, and rid me clean this strife,  
So should my Parents not, have been at such great cost,  
To bring me up on whom by fate, their great good gifts are lost:  
Ne yet have left to me, no whit such wealth at all,  
Whereby from wealth to misery, might chance a sudden fall,  
But should the same else where, have well bestowed I say,  
Which they in leaving unto me, did nought but cast away,  
Whose heavy helpless haps, increasing every hour,  
Doth force me weep, when others sleep, where fortune doth not low▪  
Thus pass I forth the night, when wish doth want his will,  
Whom fortune seeks by great despite, most cruelly to spill,  
And when the dawning day, I do perceive and see,  
And eke how Titan lifteth up, himself in first degree,  
Whose glorious glittering beams, doth move each thing to joy,  
Save only I whose hapless hap, hath wrought all mine annoy:  
Then from my couch I creep, all clad with woe and care,  
And for to walk in Desert place, myself I do prepare,  
Where none but woeful wights, do wandering wail their grief,  
Where violence doth vengeance take, where never comes relief:  
Where pleasure plays no part, nor wanton life is lead,  
Where daintiness no danger makes, ne finesse once is fed:  
Where deep despair doth devil, in owgle loathsome lake:  
Where feurious fiends do fiercely fight, an sorrows never slake:  
Even there in doleful Den, I do drive forth the day,  
Where as my piteous plaint and woe, no time hath once to stay,  
And then a new I wish, that I had never been,  
To void the painful piteous plight, that now I wretch amin,  
Within whose troubled head, such throng of thoughts doth rise,  
That now on this and then on that, I cease not often to vice,  
Among which thoughts I note, this one that doth ensue,  
Which as the young Bird brought from nest, & put in cage or mew,  
Doth joy in that her life, as much as though she might  
From wood to wood, or field to field, at pleasure take her flight,  
which plainly doth declare, a man from birth brought up,  
In mean estate that never knew, the taste of wanton cup,  
Doth hold himself so well content, with his degree,  
That he in life doth seldom seek, to crave more greater see.  
But I as bird unlike, that flew her timely flight,  
Throughout the groves and fertile field, in joys and great delight,  
Which shall no sooner feel herself, to be restrained,  
From her such wonted liberty, as some time she retained:  
But forth withal she doth, such inward thought conceive,  
That yielding up her pleasures past, her life therewith doth leave,  
when as the bird in Cage, with chirping cheer doth sing,  
That never knew the place wherein, she had more better b'inge:  
So I do plainly see, each wight that wealth hath taste,  
And afterwards doth want the same, with sorrow is embraced,  
Wherefore sith life appointed was, in me this long to last,  
In simplest sort would God I had the same to this time past,  
Then should I sure have lived content with this my pay,  
Which now because of careful change in woe do waste away.   
Finis.   

Keeper to his friend Howell.  

WHen surging Seas with raging blasts be blown,  
In which is man with ship of troublous sail,  
He must beware lest Hulcke be overthrown:  
When deathly seas compels weak heart to quail:  
So though thou be returned from Port of bliss,  
With hoisting waves and winds so hardly tossed:  
Thou mayst thyself full well assure of this,  
Thou art not he that first hath had the lost.  
It is a help sometimes in misery,  
To have a sort as fellows eke of thrall,  
Ah many man hath felt the chance of thee:  
When witless youth doth range so prodigal.  
Then hoist thy sail and be not overblown,  
The fear of harms may not thy stomach slake.  
And rise from couch when cheerful light is shown,  
And draw thee back from pains of Pluto's lake.  
Have stronger heart then simple Birds on tree,  
Let manly corpse, a manly mind embrace,  
No woes can help: then friend be ruled by me,  
Let patience in quiet breast have place:  
For all disease for cares and woes each one,  
A quiet mind, is only salve alone.   
Finis.   

The restless pains of the Lover forsaken.  

IN springe time when fresh flowers, in Field do flourish fair,  
When Trees do bud and blossoms bear, when temperate is th'air  
When Birds with chirping cheer, when Beasts that be but brute,  
As course of kind doth force them forth, through love begins great suit.   

Then I whose fancy fed, my spirits to sport and play,  
To Forrist fair of pleasant air, began to take the way:  
As I did pass throughout a valley fair and green,  
Where Birds did sing and Beasts to run often pleasant I had seen.   

All hushed I found it tho, such silence was there kept,  
As midnight then if it had been, and all things sound had slept:  
Where at amazed I stood, and listening long might hear  
At last a hollow sounding voice, with loud lamenting cheer.   

In shrubs hard shrouded by, a woeful wight there lay,  
Whose careful corpse through pining pain, was wellnigh worn away:  
Where pouring out his plaint, he cursed his cruel fate,  
That led him forth to hope for hire, where he in fine found hate.   

He sight and beaten his breast, and bid all men take heed,  
By him to trust no filled words, where as they show no deed:  
For filled words me fed, to follow fancy so,  
That like the hooked Fish betrayed, I languish now in woe:   

I look and long so: death, she leaps aloft in joy,  
Whose subtle sleights alas qd he) hath wrought all mine annoy:  
That fie on her fair face, fie on her feigned there,  
For her sake eke alone I bid, fie on all women there.   

Whereby he looked aside, and finding where I stood,  
Like one that sought to live alone, from me he fled as wood:  
For whom such griping grief, my heavy heart did gnaw,  
That I myself there deep de●●de, like link of lovers law.   
Finis.   

The britlenesse of things mortal, and the trustiness of Virtue.  

TO you fair Dames whose favour now doth flourish,  
To you whose dainty days in joys are spent:  
To you whose corpses Dame nature yet doth poolish,  
To you whom Cupid chief doth frequent,  
To you I writ with heart and good intent:  
That you may note by this which I do say,  
How natures gifts soon wear and waste a way.   

Your lofty looks the time will pluck full low,  
Your stately steps Age eke will altar quite,  
Not one thing now that doth give pleasant show,  
But time of cuts and forceth to take the flight,  
Save Virtue sole in which who doth delight,  
When wealth, when pomp, when beauty shall them leave,  
Virtue alone to such will stick and cleave.   

Where is fair Helines beauty now be come,  
Or Cressida eke whom Troilus long time served,  
Where be the decked dainty Dames of Rome,  
That in Aur●lius time so flourished:  
As these and many more are vanished,  
So shall your youth, your favour, and your grace,  
When nothing else but virtue may take place.   

To virtue therefore do yourselves apply,  
Call Cressida's life unto your youthly mind,  
Who past her time in Troy most pleasantly  
Till falsinge faith to vice she had inclined,  
For which to her such present plagues were find,  
That she in La●ers lodge her life did end,  
Which wonted was most choysly to be tend.   

Her comely corpses that Troilus did delight  
All puffed with plagues full loathsomely there lay:  
Her azured veins, her Crystal skin so white,  
With Purple spots, was fallen in great decay:  
Her wrinkled face once fair doth fade away,  
Thus she abode plagued in midst of this her youth,  
Was forced to beg for breaking of her truth.   

Lo here the end of wanton wicked life,  
Lo here the fruit that Sin both sows and reaps:  
Lo here of vice the right reward and knife,  
That cutth of clean and tumbleth down in heaps,  
All such as treadeth Cressida's cursed steps,  
Take heed therefore how you your youths do spend,  
For vice brings plagues, and virtue happy end.   
Finis.   

The description of his loathsome life, to his friend.  

LIke as the woeful wight, in Irons cold doth lie,  
And hopes at Sise to be released, is then condemned to die:  
Even so alas my lot, as contrary doth fall,  
As his who looked for sugar sweet, and found most bitter gall,  
My reastlesse labour now I justly may compare,  
To Sisyphus that never sleepeth, or else to T●stius care,  
For after sturdy storms, when calm I think to find,  
Moore rougher rage a new doth rise, to gripe my grieved mind,  
And when my careful case, by means I seek to cure,  
Most deepist dint of inward woe alas I do endure.  
The cause of this my grief yet will I closely keep,  
And secretly my sorrows sup when others sound do sleep.   
Finis.   

The Lover almost in desperation, month his estate.  

MY careful case, and heavy pining plight,  
Constraineth me, against my will to wright,  
The plungid state wherein I live and devil,  
Doth force me forth my trembling tale to tell,   

My heaped woes, all solace sets aside,  
Whose secret smart, alas I fain would hide,  
But as the subject Ox to yoke must yield,  
So vanquished wights are forced forsake the field.   

My luckless lot, denies me all relief,  
I seek for help, but find increase of grief,  
I languish still in long and deep despair,  
Yet fear to show the cause of this my care.   

I covit naught that reason might deny,  
I seek not for to climb the cloudy sky,  
But what I seek, if I the same might find,  
Then should be eased mine uncontented mine.   
Finis.   

The infortunate end of Croesus' King of Lydia, a worthy note for Covetousness sake.  

WHen darkness dim the earth did hide, and hushed was wood & field,  
when Beasts & Birds of painted pride, to take their rest did yield,  
When Seas and waves of waters wild, their roaring seemed to slake,  
And each thing else in silence sat, on sleep their ease to take,  
Then I whose wakeful troubled head, no quiet rest could find,  
Lay mewsing how I best might ease, mine uncontented mind:  
At last I start from out my bead, and having present light,  
Did find a Book whereon I read, to drive away the night,  
In which the life of Cirus King of Persia I found,  
written by one height Xenophon, from whence I take my ground,  
The wondrous works and worthy deeds, of Cirus than I read,  
His regal rule his liberal heart, and how in wars he speed:  
How he through his benevolence, not only each heart won,  
But kept himself thereby more sure, than town or garrison:  
Who when at any time he stood, of Gold or men in need,  
with wealth and will his people haste, to strength him still with speed:  
And brief to be such noble deeds, by Cirus d●●ne I find,  
As justly sure deserved hath, to win immortal mind,  
Which I now pass over to them, that better can indite,  
As one who most unable is, his life at large to writ:  
But only this I note therein, as thing of wonders prize,  
A mirror meet for magistrates, to set before their eyes.  
When Croesus he that cormrant King, which over Lyde did reign,  
Seeing the largeness Cirus used, wild him his hand restrain:  
He said to heap his friends in wealth, was unto him great pleasure,  
If he then chanced to stand in need, he took them for his treasure:  
O noble King, would God thy life were graven in Tables of Gold,  
That Croesus' kind which now doth live, thy bounty might behold,  
So should they see what Fame thou wan, in lands and country's cost,  
where Croesus' King was clean ●●●sumde, with that he hon●rd most:  
Who ended thus his greedy guts, were ●●de and set on float,  
with glittering Gold that 〈◊〉 was▪ and powered down his throat.   
Finis.   

The contempt of Riches.  

THe state of worldly things, is strange and most unstable,  
Both mirth and woe to man it brings, through Fortune variable,  
Wherefore I hold him best, that hath sufficient,  
That likes the lot which God hath given, & therewith stands content:  
For they that seek most highest, themselves for to advance,  
Are often seen to be the nighest to dangerous mischance:  
Example by the tree which grows upon the Hill,  
That subject is unto each blast, when trees below are still,  
The higher state always the greater care doth bring,  
The greater care the lesser ease, which proves the mean surest thing,  
And Histories divine us bidth from cares and woes,  
And wills us all to view the birds, and lilies fresh that grows,  
The Birds ne sow nor reap, and yet do want nothing,  
The Lily eke it doth compare with Solomon the King,  
Afirming plain that he in all his princely power,  
Was never decked like unto the simple Lily flower:  
A void such care therefore, as quails the courage oft,  
And put thy confidence in him, that sits in Throve a loft:  
Content thyself always, with that he shall assine,  
Against those whom he doth exalt, see thou do not repined,  
If riches do increase, be thankful for the same,  
If want of that do chance to press, do not thy Fortune blame,  
Better it is of both, to be content with aught,  
With great and heaped howrdes of gold, then have unquiet thought:  
Did not Diogenes, prefer the shining Son,  
Before the mighty kingdoms great, that Alexander won:  
When this great conqueror would, have given him gifts of gold,  
He said like gift thou canst not give, as thou from me dost hold.  
though sundry others more, whose works were wondrous wise,  
I might here name to like effect, yet let this said suffice,  
For nothing here so sure, that certain may remain,  
account therefore all worldly power, as transitory vain.   
Finis.   

The unquiet estate of the Lover, wherein is wished redress.  

LIke as the Captain stout, constrained is in th'end,  
Oppressed with power to yield himself, and what he did defend:  
So I with Cupid caught, am forced at last to yield,  
To you whose virtuous ways, hath won of me both Fort & field,   

I may no longer cloak the scortchinge flames of fire,  
That still in s●acret breast doth burn, through want of my desire:  
But forth it finds away, that hid hath line full long,  
And love doth boldly bid me seek, to have redress of wrong.   

Sigh then in you it lies, on me to work your will,  
By mercy for to length my life, by contrary to kill:  
Let pity move your mind, in humble wise I sue,  
And seek to save the Captive heart that wisheth well to you.   

For here I do confess the only state and stay,  
Of my led life and eke my death, to rest in you always:  
Whose grant of grace hath power, to glad my gripped breast,  
Whose stay thereof hath like effect, to further mine unrest.   

Grant yea therefore my dear, let nay be out of mind,  
As I have vowed to work your will, till death shall do his kind:  
And thus I cease to writ, the twentieth part of grief,  
That my poor pained heart endures, as yet without relief.   
Finis.   

liberality.  

¶ Where wise do suffer want,  
And driven in hard distress:  
Cut not thy cantle scant,  
That mayst their cause redress.   
Finis.   

Providence.  

Twice happy is the wight,  
Whom others harms doth cause  
To shun the snare, of noisome care,  
That grows by breach of laws.   
Finis.   

Good advise, to his faithful friend.  

OF lovers restless lives, I li●t not wright,  
Let learned heads describe their playnfull plight:  
But plain in terms I wish thee even as well,  
As those that can their tales more trimly tell.   

Whose friendly meaning if thou wilt receive,  
first fly from Vice and unto Virtue cleave:  
next seek by honest means, such wealth to win,  
As may thee help what need thou shalt be in.   

Count not thy Chickens that unhatched be,  
Way words as wind, till thou find certainty:  
For filid words that deeds do never yield,  
May well be likened to the barren field.   

Be ware of had I wist whilst youth doth last,  
Whose stealing steps do pass away in haste:  
Provide in time, thine aged years to cheerish,  
And let fair words go feed, the fond and foolish.   

account each thing, as proof the same shall try,  
Trust not to far before thou find cause why:  
For under Flowers so fair often poison lurks,  
Whose show of flagrant smell much mischiefs works.   

Take heed lest Argus with his crafty Net,  
And wily subtle sleights do thee be se●:  
Thus wishing ay thy wealth, I make an end,  
Lest tedious talk should naught but thee offend.   
Finis.   

Youth still bewaileth, When nought it availeth.  

MY reckless rage of wanton youth,  
With grief I do lament:  
When unto mind I call the truth,  
How I my time have spent.   
Finis.   

An humble suit to his friend, requesting Love for love.  

I See of late a woeful wight,  
That Willo wands did wind to wear:  
Whose face declared the painful plight,  
Which he through love then present bear.  
He looked a fit as though he would  
Have fled unto the starry skies:  
But still he stood, as though he could,  
Not once heave us his heavy thées.  
His feathered hands he flashed forth,  
And thither fain he would have ●●ead:  
But wofullman he was full wroothe,  
To see his limbs all lade with lead.   

You are the bright and starry sky,  
I am the man in painful plight:  
My l●●●es are lad I cannot fly,  
My corpse may not sustain my weight   

I read the woes of Sigismonde,  
The child of Tanckred Salerne king:  
Her love to Guystarde did so bound,  
She fanced else none other thing.  
For riches nought nor for his wealth,  
Whereof he had but slender store,  
His virtue was her only health,  
She liked that well she sought no more.  
They had their hoped hap and joy,  
If Tanckred could content him so,  
But he by working their annoy,  
Unto himself brought deepest woe.   

You Sigismonde are fair and bright,  
Would I had Guystardes virtuous life,  
And Tanckred chaste clean out of sight,  
Then would I wish for such a wife.   

I read how Luna loved one,  
Of birth but mean of right good fame,  
By name yclept Endimione,  
Whose love was quite devoid of blame:  
In Laemi Hill it thus befell,  
She saw him sit all sad alone,  
'tis I (que she) I know full well,  
For whom he mourns and makes his moan:  
She was not shamed of Laemi Hill,  
Nor yet of lovers simple state,  
But strait consents, unto his will,  
And him did choose for loving make.   

O Luna look upon thy Love,  
Endymion makes his moan to thee,  
Be not ashamed let pity move,  
And love me like as I love thee.   
Finis.   

The Commendation of the mean in all things.  

AS mean in Music soundeth best,  
So mean estate lives most in rest:  
The higher climbed the fall more deep,  
The deeper fall the double pain,  
And pensive pain doth careful keep,  
In man each lively limb and vain,  
Which proves what change or chance do fall,  
Contented mean exceedeth all.   
Finis.   

I K. To his friend H.  

THe high estate is dangerous,  
The poor degree is burdenous,  
The richer sort are covetous,  
The needy soul is dolorous.  
The youthful imps are prodigal:  
The aged thirst for goods so thrall,  
The bolder men foolhardy call,  
The fearful wights are dastards all,  
Then ill eschew, embrace things clean,  
Howell, welfare thy golden mean.   
Finis.   

He lamenteth the ungrateful person for inconstancy.  

ALas I unhappy and most woeful wight,  
Whom Fortune so deeply hath now in despite,  
That tongue cannot tell ne Pen have power to wright,  
My pitiful plaint and heavy pining plight.   

How shall I to case me, unborden my breast,  
Of these double dolours that breeds mine unrest,  
When speech wanteth power, when Pen is unpressed,  
And wit wanteth cunning thereunto addressed.   

This great restless rage in my mind doth renew,  
And where I fain help would find harm doth ensue:  
But yet was I never found false or untrue,  
Which causeth me much more my dolours to rue.   

She that I did honour, above all the rest,  
To whom I reserved, the heart in my breast,  
Hath me quite forsaken and broke her behest,  
And another taken, to love and like best.   

And seemeth now slightly to bear me in hand,  
That I was cause only of breatche of her band,  
But truth if me tried full searched and scanned,  
Then trespass in me should she none understand.   

Wherefore to the Spider I may her compare,  
That cruelly killeth what's caught in her snare,  
For she by like tyranny nothing doth spare,  
Most spitefully to spoil thus my carcase with care.   
Finis.   

The showing of his good Hart.  

THe Glove for gage is rightly given, where things concluded 〈◊〉,  
Wherefore I do account thereof, more than of gold or fee,  
Of which if I were stored, like Croesus in his time,  
I vow to thee if thou so would, it should be wholly thine,  
Where to if I with Solomon, in wisdom might compare,  
And beauty had like Absalon, whose match is very rare,  
Like eloquence to Cicero, in power Caesar's pear,  
Yet would I be as now I stand, your faithful servant dear:  
And thus I rest in Haven hope, whose bosom doth embrace  
Your glove as you till trackte of time, may purchase further grace.   
Finis.   

The declaration of the unstableness of fickle Fortune.  

WHere Fortune favoureth not, what labour may prevail,  
Whom frowning fate will needs thrust down, what shall he win to wail?  
With patience to yield, for such Ideeme most best,  
And cast their cares and griefs on him, that rewleth fates behest,  
We see by perfect proof, that none so Princely goes,  
But that by will of God the highest, out of this world he flows,  
Sigh then such fickle force, in mortal might we find,  
Let nothing that shall hap thee hear, to much torment thy mind:  
For all to live a like, of this assured Bee,  
Was never yet nor shallbe seen, but cache in his degree:  
As like the Potter's pots, be made to sundry use,  
So some men serve and some are served, here needs no fine e●scuse,  
The labouring man to toil, that spares ne night nor day,  
Gets scarce to feed his family, when some howrde heaps that play,  
Yet doth he not despair, nor yet from labours fly,  
But lives content when worldlings make, of wealth their misery,  
Who gripped with greater grief, if Fortune list to lower,  
Then such as erst did feed at fill, upon her fruitfulst flower:  
Which change full often hath chanced, through her unconstantness,  
And whom she lately laughed upon, thrown down remediless.  
Was Alexander great, that many dangers past,  
For all his mighty conquests won, not poisoned dead at last.  
A Kings son eke I find, for Father's tyranny,  
Constrained to work in Smiths Forge, by hard necessity,  
Such is the fading force of Fortune's fickle flower,  
Whose fruitfulst fruit both ripes & rots in less space than one hour.  
Such is her tickle trust, such are her slipper steps,  
That what she seems to sow in joy, with sorrow often she reaps.  
Attribute all to him that ruleth fate therefore:  
To him I mean which left the rich, and fed the pining poor,  
For thus do I intend, whilst vit all breath shall last,  
Though erst I practised many means, which proof hath tried in waist.   
Finis.   

Themislocles' answer, concerning his Daughter to be married.  

THemislocles by whose great skill, th' Athenians long were led,  
His only Daughter did bestow, on mean young man to wed,  
Which when his friends did wonder sore, these words he did express  
My daughter dear hath won (qd he) more wealth than ye do guess:  
Whom I account much better placed, when truth I truly scan,  
Upon a man that money wants, than money wanting man.   
Finis.   

The Lamentation of the woeful man, having for entire Love no goodwill.  

THe time that I began, to enter first to life,  
Would God the sister's three had cut the thread with fatale knife  
Would God that death had been, with arrows ready bent,  
To pierce the woeful heart of mine, which now with care is spent.   

Then should I not at all, have followed fancies lure,  
Whose outward show of sugar sweet, is mirt with poison sour:  
As now I am constrained, by destiny sure I think,  
That still doth find but bitter taste, yet cannot choose but drink.   

Thus I God knows full often a heavy heart do bear,  
●hen out wardly I seem to show a merry careless cheer,  
Dissembling eke my case, in hope of happier day,  
But ay from time to time I find naught else but my decay.   

I pine in secret flanies, like ware consumed with fire,  
I wish, but always want my will, lo this mine only hire:  
What Paps did give her food, that naught regards my woe?  
What Tiger fierce alas could hate, the heart that loved her so.   

Great cruelty it is, to slay the yielding wight,  
That mercy still doth sue to have, and useth none other fight:  
But sith my hapless hap alas must needs be so,  
With speed come death to end my life, and rid me of this wo.   
Finis.   

The Lover declares his constant heart never to forge the thing that was decreed.  

SHall any wight prevail, to bring to pass by power,  
Away to move, or rule our love, that faith hath first tindewre.  
Shall either force of friends, or froward frowning foes,  
'Cause us forego our hoped joys, bought with so many woes,  
Not, not, for my part here, a vow to thee I make,  
That first each torment shall me tear, care I my faith forsake.   
Finis.   

An admonition, concerning the tract of time.  

¶ As time all things finds out,  
So time each thing must bide.  
In time therefore I wish,  
That time may well provide.   
Finis.   

A friendly admonition to his friend, that craved good Counsel.  

Condemn no cause till it be thoroughly known,  
Each brutish broil that forth abroad is blown:  
Believe not lightly, lest by some such act,  
Thou chance repent of deed informer fact.   

Accuse no wight of crime till troth thou try,  
Ne credit then thine ear before thine eye:  
Such false report abroad may often go,  
As perfect proof shall find out nothing so.   

In judgement rash see that thou never be,  
Deal not in things that pass capacity:  
Thy portion spend that some thou have to spare  
If thou wilt live devoid of woes and care.   
Finis.   

A pithy Precept.  

¶ When youth hath run his race,  
Old age doth step in place:  
In youth therefore beware,  
Lest age be clad with care.   
Finis.   

Another.  

¶ Who wanteth force against his foes to fight,  
Shall seldom be devoid of painful plight.   
Finis.   

The expressing of his unlucky haps diversly chanced.  

Like as the ship of force doth drive,  
Which way the wind shall him constrain:  
So out of native soil I live,  
As destiny doth me lead and train,  
Now here, now there, now up, now down,  
As Fortune lists, to smile or frown.   

And as the horse the rider rides,  
Of force must take such way as he:  
With pricking spours doth pierce his 〈◊〉,  
Shall think most first for him to be,  
So I of force must yield to bide,  
Such hope as fate will me provide.   

As I by proof do plainly see,  
Which long have sought in hope to find,  
Some place to ease my misery:  
With toil I toast and troubled mind,  
By seas by land, in many a coast,  
In danger oft, like to be lost.   

I wish and want what should I say?  
I seek and find nothing at all,  
I toil, and still in great decay,  
I fain would rise, yet still do fall,  
With sundry cares I am oppressed,  
But Pen be still, and take thy rest.   
Finis.   

His complaint to the God Cupid, because he with his Darts pierceth him alone.  

OCupid Venus darling dear,  
Whose power no mortal might may bide,  
If once in hand thy bow thou bear,  
And flaming forckers by thy side,  
Why dost thou this lie still and sleep?  
When I to thee do wail and weep.   

Where is become thy wonted power?  
Art thou vanquished and put to flight?  
Or else art thou disposed to lower,  
On me alone most woeful wight:  
Say no, say no, O I thee pray,  
And turn the heart breeds mine annoy.   

In which time ●arbes and trees, that Winter's wind did wear,  
Enforce themselves to bud and grow some pleasant fruit to bear.  
The little Bird that reason wants, doth then with chirping cheer,  
From twig to twig, and bush to bush, greet often his lotted fear:  
The flotinge Fish in sturdy streams, that travels day and night,  
Doth eke unto their fancied fears repair with all their might,  
The weak and wretched worms forgetteth not this day,  
Whom we may find about this time fast coplide by the way:  
As nature hath decreed all these by course of kind,  
In things that reasons rule doth want, right so hath man asingde,  
For witness of the same in this apoin●ted time,  
That every man and woman eke shall have a Valentine,  
In sign of that her force which no wight can subdue,  
Lo this the only cause I say, that all things doth renew:  
Lo this the cause also, why Fortunes lots be had,  
Whose hoped hap and hapless hope, doth make both woe and glad.  
But I above the rest, may Fortune highly praise,  
Who hath given me the fearest Dame, that lives in these our days:  
Such one I say whom Nature hath, with Virtue so I decked,  
That none there is or shall have power, her name once to deteckte:  
Even such a one whom I as Fortune hath assigned,  
Will always be at her commands, till death shall do his kind.   
Finis.   

To a proud Dame.  

THe fem so fond of unadvised brain,  
That mounts in seat by pride of blinded heart,  
No praise may get, but shows a wisdom vain,  
Lo pass degree in seat by no desert:  
Be thou content to sit on squared stool,  
Lest seeming wise thou prove the fonder fool,  
It might been said by prudent voice of grace,  
Presuming Dame retire from stately place.   
Finis.   

The lamentable end of julia, Pompey's wife.  

SOre plunged in piteous pains and woeful smart,  
Bespread with tr●ckling tears, on death like face,  
Down trils the drops on cheeks, and sighs from heart:  
To hear and see her husbands grievous case,  
Thus goes the spouse O woeful Julia,  
Besprent with blood, when Pompey's cote she saw.   

down deap she faults, in lamentable sound,  
Of sense bereft, so great was Julis strain:  
The child conceived within, with deadly wound,  
Untimely fruit came forth with proching pain,  
When all was done, for love her life she lost,  
For Pompey's sake she yielded up her ghost.   

So dead she lay bewailed with many tears,  
A Matron wise, a famous ornament,  
O Cesar had lived full cheerful years,  
If thou with Pompey couldst have been content,  
But Civil wars, hath wrought this fatal law,  
To Pompey death and death to Julia.   

You Matrons grave, and worthy spoused mates,  
You maiden Nymphs, which live in larger parts,  
O read and see view not and judge of states:  
And follow eke such faithfulness of hearts,  
Such lively love embrace, saith virtue grave,  
As Julie true for mate her life she gave.   
Finis.   

To his froward friend.  

THis is not solom Sophocles,  
In learned trade which treads,  
This is not hardy Hercules,  
That conquered Hydra's heads.  
Fear not his bousteous vantinge word,  
Though he would see me to brawl,  
He will advise his angry sword,  
On whom his strokes do fall:  
Words be but wind, to purge his heat,  
His stomach to abate,  
Wherein he shows his manly feat,  
When most he seems to prate,  
Time may a suage these choleric foams,  
Where Hercles is so bold,  
Think not good Hercles all are momes,  
When all thy Cards be told.  
We know the Wood by sight of trees,  
We know the fire is hot,  
We know your power and wise decrees,  
Though fools you call our lot,  
Farewell good hardy Hercules,  
As hardy as thou art,  
Thou mayest be vexed with little Bees,  
Though greater be thy heart.   
Finis.   

A friendly salutation to his beloved.  

THese lines view dearest friend,  
Wherein I close my heart:  
Behold therein my great good will,  
Provokte by just desert.  
This simple slender show  
Accept, your heart to move,  
For this my heart and golden will,  
Restore your golden love.  
For if great riches could  
Encopled mates the more,  
I have both seen, and live as now,  
Wherein I might have store,  
But nought I care the wealth,  
Nor yet the gorgeous gain.  
My hands and heart I only give  
Thee only to obtain:  
You only would I crave,  
Before all other wight.  
Before the fairest proferde Nymphs,  
You most do me delight.  
Whose choice is now at will,  
To take or else refuse:  
And if it lay so much in me,  
You only would I choose:  
Accept my proferde love,  
As trust by truth may bind,  
If it thee please I am thine own,  
O my approved friend,  
In worthy state to stay,  
I will forsake thee never.  
My heart my joy my only care,  
I will thee love for ever:  
Accept and view these lines,  
And think my heart you see,  
Beholding eke this menssenger,  
Sometimes consider me.  
Suppose I present were,  
To talk in friendly part,  
But though my body absent be,  
Yet bound you have my part.   
Finis.   

Complaint of ingratitude.  

MY Pen in piteous part,  
Cannot in half descry,  
The inward woes in moaning heart,  
That gripes me secretly.  
If outward face could moon,  
The woes of inward shape,  
The senseless trees, and Flinty stone,  
Would rue my hapless hap.  
O heart with care oppressed,  
So plunged in penury,  
The sobbing sights of great unrest,  
Will 'cause me wretch to die.  
Into untimely grave,  
Mishap shall me convey,  
The dart of death I need not crave,  
I see no prompter way.  
Thus I have plight the pain,  
Of toiling hand and mind  
To help the grace that can reward,  
Yet show itself unkind.  
I K.   
Finis.   

After his good fortune, fallen into mishap.  

AH wretches set in wretched vale,  
Where naught is sure but death so pale:  
All worldly goods and joys so gay,  
As withered flowers they vade away.  
When Fortune thee doth highest extoule,  
Yet somewhat still doth vex thy soul,  
Then virtue crave vain joys despice,  
For wisdom still shall bear the price.  
I K.   
Finis   

A Dialogue touching the matrimonial degree.  

Scythe we are now in pleasant place,  
Where each may speak his mind at will,  
And quietly debate the case,  
Accordingly by simple skill,  
I mean to reason this with thee,  
Who will be bound and may go free.   

What bands you mean first let me know,  
And then I will some answer make,  
In divers sense your words do grow,  
And diversly they may be take,  
Though commonly they be aplide,  
To those that are in wedlock tide.   

My meaning is as ye do guess,  
Now let me hear what you can say,  
If I shall right my mind express,  
And speak the truth without delay,  
I think him void of wit to be,  
That will be bound and may go free.   

In wedlock state, is no such band,  
No freedom lost by taking wife,  
If that the truth b●e rightly scanned,  
She causeth long and happy life,  
A virtuous wife enlarge thy days,  
Of husband's age divine books says,   

Who hastes to wife in hope of that,  
May grope for Eels and catch a Snake,  
And prove as wise as Pusse our Cat,  
That seeking fish fell in the lake.  
Let them that list therefore for me,  
I will not bind and may go free.   

Well then I see who will contend,  
If thou so wilfully be bent,  
I do fall out to little end,  
Take heed therefore lest thou repent,  
The life thou now call'st liberty,  
Here after through extremity.   

The Bachelor most joyfully,  
In pleasant plight doth pass his days,  
Good fellowship and company,  
He doth maintain and keep always,  
With Damsels brave he may well go,  
The maride man can not do so.   

Though dainty Dames thee now delight,  
And beauties beams thine eyes do blind,  
When time shall come of perfect sight,  
The wedded life thou suerst shalt find,  
For God himself to avoid sin,  
The wedded state did first begin.   
Finis.   

Time giveth trial.  

¶ Though yet to thee it scant appear,  
The end shall show what truth I bear.   
Finis.   

The Bridle of youth.  

THe wild and wanton Coulte, that roams in pasture still,  
And takes his food with careless lips, without restraint of will,  
Is all unmeet to serve upon, till first by perfect guide,  
With Bit and Bridle strong he be, from wanton will fast tied:  
Wherefore each worthy wight, a rider ●it doth find,  
To check and break such careless Coultes, as shall to them be find,  
So likewise beardless boys, that reasons rule doth shun,  
In steed of Rider they by Rod, from vice to grace are won,  
And both unseemly were, for princely pears to use,  
A lack therefore in such I deem, as would them thus abuse.   
Finis.   

A farewell to his worshipful friend. T. D.  

DO bloysterous blasts that blow, compel to hoist thy sail,  
To drive the ship to calmer Port, unto thy more advaile.  
O cease ye froward floods, return O ship to stay,  
For thou in Bark so well befraught, hast all our joys away,  
But since the witless winds, have caused good ship to flee,  
The self same blast shall shortly force, a sort to sail with thee,  
And since thou wilt away, what hapless hap befell,  
That doth proceed of inward woe, I can but say farewell,  
Farewell O Justice just, that didst uprightly stand  
And eke to raise the falling poor, that hadst prepared hand,  
Farewell thou friendly heart, that wouldst do devil always,  
With toward mind & plighted pains, that sought thy founder's praise  
Farewell of mind so mild, upspronge of right degree,  
Soms inward thoughts urge outward woes, that find the want of thee,  
Farewell thou worthy wight, in guile that canst not feign,  
That will do well as thou hast done, not one there comes again,  
Farewell if needs it must, so doth our loss befall,  
Of honest wights though hence ye go, yet have the hearts of all,  
Farewell a friend to each, farewell a foe to none,  
Lo here in grief my last farewell, farewell O friend alone.   

Et puis, & clemens, & carus es omnibus unus▪  
Nature prudens, conditione probus:  
Vive Diu, venerande faue, reverend valeto,  
He● mihi quod possum dicere, tr●ste vale.   
Finis.   

I Keeper to his friend. H.  

HOwell haunt hope bartely,  
Her happy hap have humbly,  
Hast hardy heart hold honesty,  
Her hearty heart I height to thee.   
¶ Finis.   

The life of man likened to a Stage play, where on we aught warely to Walk.  

SIth earth is stage whereon we play ourparts,  
And deeds are deemed according to deserts,  
Be wary how you walk upon the same,  
In playing your part win praise and banish blame,   

Remember how your tale once told strait way,  
a other steps on stage his part to play:  
Lo whom of force you must give up your place,  
As he that hath all ready run his race.   

Your port, your power, your wealth and wearing weds,  
You then must yield to such as shall succeed:  
As things but lent to play your part withal,  
Whose heir shallbe even as desert doth fall.   

Not he that playeth the stateliest part most praise,  
Nor be that weareth richest robes always,  
But he I say that bears himself most best,  
Whether his part be with the great or lest.   

Take heed therefore and play your part so well,  
That afterwards you may in safety devil:  
Grope not to greedily for worldly gain,  
The end whereof is transitory and vain.   

But be sufficed with that sufficient is,  
And seek the things that bring eternal bliss,  
So shall you hear not only win great praise,  
But after eke enjoy most happy days.   
¶ Finis.   

Regard thy end.  

¶ Unpleasant is the plight, of that most woeful wight,  
That seeth with perfect sight, his life from him take flight,  
And wanteth power and might, to slay and flee such spite.   
¶ Finis.   

The lamentable history of Sephalus with the unfortunate end of Procris.  
To the tune of Appelles.  

WHo lust to view the heavy haps,  
Of faithful lovers long a go,  
And eke survey their after claps,  
Must needs me thinks lament for woe,  
If that my heart were framed of flint  
From tears yet hardly might it stint.   

¶ I read some time of Sephalus,  
A lusty youth of noble blood,  
Of face and favour amorous  
In Nature's favour far he stood,  
If near would make a man aghast,  
To mark his limbs and members placed.   

¶ So straight, so square, so trim was he,  
So fair of form so wise and sage,  
He seemed a sample sure to be,  
And Lantarne to the younger age,  
And to conclude, he passed those,  
That thought they made a goodly gloze.   

¶ This brute (as youth will have a spurt,  
When lusty blood begin to broil,)  
Did flee from freedom to the court,  
Where Venus only keeps the coil,  
Thus reason banished quite a way,  
He warneth will to bear the sway.   

Then fancy forced by and by,  
The wandringe eyes as scouts to be,  
In secret sort for to espy,  
Or publicly to mark and see,  
If any Lady wear in sight,  
That might deserve this worthy knight.   

¶ But soon alas they have espied,  
The mark wheareat they shot so long,  
Fair Procris beauty is descried,  
She blazed so bright her mates among,  
Lo Sephalus doth now begin,  
His ladies favour first to win.   

¶ ●ewe days were passed less years were spent  
Till flattering Fortune struck the stroke,  
To love each other both were bend,  
Love did them both so sore provoke,  
What will you more if Fortune say,  
It shallbe thus say you not nay.   

¶ Now nothing grieved Sephalus,  
But for to be abridged fro,  
His Lady's sight most glorious  
What greater grief might any grow  
Fair Procris Parents were so hard,  
That she as Bird in Cage was bard.   

¶ But Sephalus by fine devise,  
Of witty head and wary wit,  
Did put in practise to entice,  
His Lady thence what hap should hit,  
By letter than he did conclude,  
That she her keepers should delude.   

¶ And to a Forest buy a pace,  
Which he in letter named also,  
Where here he did mean to ●y●● her 〈◊〉▪  
If that it would her please to go,  
The letters red she sought his william.  
In every point for to fulfil.   

¶ And to the appointed place she hide,  
expecting still her Sephalus,  
She gave the flippe unto her guide,  
O tract of time most tedyus,  
O Procris sure thine is the wrong,  
That Sephalus a bides so long.   

¶ But never is the same to long,  
The Proverb saith that comes at last  
She spied him in the end among,  
A sort of trees not making haste,  
His Boowe was bend his arrow fast▪  
In Nut to shoot already placed.   

¶ She would not call for fear of foes,  
Nor yet to him she would repair,  
Jest that she should the Dear unroes,  
That Sephalus had spied at lair,  
She gives him leave to range his fill,  
Full loath she is his sport to spill.   

¶ The time did pass no game was found,  
And Sephalus was well near tired,  
Fair Procris absence did him wound  
For she was all that he desyrde,  
He stood not still he trugde about,  
Loose if he might find her out.   

¶ Lo fortune brought him near the place,  
Where Procris still alas did stand,  
She blushed yet to she we her face,  
She made no sign but with her hand,  
She took the bows and them did shake,  
A feared to great a noise to make.   

¶ But Sephalus when he espied,  
The leaves to wag and bows to shake▪  
He thought some beast did there him hide,  
And at his coming did awake,  
Wherefore to see he thought it best,  
If he might find him taking rest.   

¶ And as he peeped here and there,  
He spied a thing of collar dark,  
And indginge it an ugly Bear,  
Dyschardgde his bow and hit the mark,  
Through sturdy stroke and deadly wound,  
He nailed Procris to the ground.   

¶ Alas unwares did Sephalus,  
His Lady kill and murder thus,  
O greeff of griefs most dolorous,  
O hap of Haps most piteous  
Dear Ladies step your foot to mine  
To mourn with me your hearts incline.   

¶ When Sephalus his Precris found,  
Imbrued with blood on every side  
The arrow sticking in the wound,  
That bleeding sore did gape full wide,  
He cursed the gods that skies possessed  
The sisters three and all the rest.   

¶ And faintly spoke, no Lady no,  
You shall not vanish hence alone,  
My ghost alas your friendly foo,  
Shall wait your precious soul upon,  
And with that word to end his life,  
He ●●ue himself with bloody knife.   

¶ Lo lordings, here by take a view,  
And Ladies mark what I shall say,  
Each one to life must say adieu,  
And to the earth her own repay,  
There is no choice we see it so,  
When death doth call we needs must go.   
Finis.   

A friendly admonishment to 〈◊〉 friend to choose a wife.  

HEre live in love: for thy behove, let reason rule thy choice:  
so shalt thou wear: Ulysses ear, to shun the Sirens voice,  
Beware and care: before thou stare, on women's painted eyes,  
like Crocodiles: with poisoned smiles, they will thee clean disguise,  
If thou to catch: intendest a match, to live in marriage sport:  
first mark and hear: what fame she bear, among the wiser sort,  
For market men: can tell thee then, how doth the market go,  
if well thou hear: then draw thee near, and be in suit not ●●o,   

In women's minds: are divers winds, which stir their Aspen funge,  
to prate and chat, they know not what, by that much strife is sprung,  
But take thou heed: and ever dread, to match with carters kind,  
for carters seed, is base of breed, whose manners ill we find,  
They will devise: both tales and lies, to bring thy house to square:  
no honest man (if that she can,) with her shall credit bear,  
Such rustic kind: such faults will find, when they deserve the blame  
and willbe proud: and scold full loud, not passing for her fame,   

The servants good: from meat and food, she will debar with pain:  
and yet complain, as though thy gain, by them were spent in vain,  
To blind thine eyes: she will have spies, to bring thee tales and lies,  
as though for thrift, good housewives shifted, she doth for thee devise,  
When she in deed, herself will feed, and take her private gain,  
and make the wear king, Midas ear, as though she took the pain,  
But in her Wine, she will divine, and blab the secretminde:  
to such her mates: as chats and prates, according to her kind,   

By this I say, a fool in play, by her thou shalt be made:  
and all the town: will call thee clown, which ridest on such a Jade,  
Again a maid, of honest trade, if thou wilt seek to have:  
though riches want: yet like the Ant, by travel will she save.  
An still enough, thy man at plough, and all thy servants else,  
shall of h●r meat, both drink and eat, no toys nor lies she tells,  
In quiet rest, she maketh nest, to lodge thy weary bones:  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 keep, in quiet sleep, from all deep sights and groans,   

Among her maids, with honest trades, she puts her hand in use:  
and always dreads: her husband's deeds, with scolding to abuse,  
Besides all this: thou should not miss, but have an honest fame:  
for such a wife: is chaste of life, and like Ulysses dame,  
He is a coke's: and worthy strokes, whose wife the Breeches bear:  
a Cuckold's hood, to do him good, deserveth he to wear,  
Take heed therefore: and keep in store, this short admonishment:  
Lest had I witted: alas I missed, than dost to late repent.   
Finis.   

The Lover deceived, writes to his Lady.  
To the tune of in ●re●● when dedalus.  

WHo would have thought that face of thine, had been so full of doblenes  
Or eyes within those Crystal eyen, had rest so much unstableness,  
Thy face so fair thy look so strange, who would have thought so full of change   

But truth it is as most men say, in Cutler's blade is had much craft,  
Who chepneth thine & make no say, may buy on broken in the haste,  
And then repent and say as I, lo what it is, to trust the eye.   

In sleper hold who can put trust, or judge a glass of sure me●tall,  
Thou art to blame to seem so just, and prove so false in the trial,  
But sith thou art so false in deed, best pluck the up & fyyll the seed,   

So young in years, so old in craft, some petty it is that thou so art,  
Moore petty it is that nature graft, so good a face with a false heart,  
But since thou art in such a case, to cell thyself and hide thy face.   

The Duck untaught of very kind, doth swim & dive after the Dame,  
And thou like wise of sliper mind, dost show of whom thy nature came,  
Thou foundest in thy mother's papes, to bait with craft thy pleasant traps,   

So as the new & false doth please, the changing mind within her grafted,  
So doth the old and true disease, her subtle wits and preivie crafts  
And say true man trust not to much, y self ●alfe reward that cometh of such.   
Farewell for ever and this my last.  
Finis.   

In uttering his plaint, he declareth the uncertainty of feigned friendship.  
To the tune of winter's 〈◊〉 return.  

IF tears may try my troth, that trickle down my cheeks,  
or if my good will may be known, by proof of days or weeks.  
Then do I wrong receive, where friendship crave I most,  
and where in deed in every storm, my vessel hath been toast,  
And through the tempests all, my Ship hath safely sailed,  
and yet no Seas could shake my Bark, my hope hath so prevailed,  
O help ye Courtiers now, and Soldiers every each one,  
to wail my present heavy fate, my Fortune fled and gone,  
And curse this wicked world, wherein most friends do faint,  
and namely such as tract of time, hath taught their tongues to paint  
Which promise more by words, then will or works performs,  
such have the kernels eaten all, and I count them the worms,  
That guawes the hearts of men, in pieces every day,  
and such alas have led my Ship, a weary wilksome way,  
From whence if I return, I shall but wander still,  
and find no path to tread upon, that can content my will,  
Hear have I hoist my sail, as high as wind can blow,  
here had I trends whose nod or beck, a world might over throw,  
And still my strange staff, did stand by one alone,  
whose gentle heart is now become, as hard as Marble stone,  
To me the case is such, that mishap thus is mine,  
when I am worn unto the bones, he lets me starve and pine,  
He lets me sink or swim, and shift by slight of brain,  
as though my head so gamesome were, to set on every main,  
Since friendship feeble grows, and men can causeless change,  
and will this day familiar be, and turn to morrow strange,  
I will go seek my haps, through fludes and salt Sea foam,  
and rather perish on the Rocks, than thus to starve at home,  
Among my chiefest friends, a mid my natuie soil,  
where never yet in any point, I suffered blot or foil,  
Where all the world might say, I sucte up many a wro●nge,  
where well a way some other think, I poor man live to long,  
Where let my truth be tried, I crave but small reward,  
and where when fortune doth me right, the prince may me regard.   
Finis.   

The 〈…〉 Keeper to his friend Howell.  

OF late when Primrose 'gan to pear, on Meadows bank so green,  
When Daises whit & Rose full read, most cheerful all were seen,  
A lusty wight of sturdy blood, in chiefest times of might,  
I saw to ride with courage high, on Palfrey trimly dight,  
A Courtier right in bravest weed, of purest silks so gay,  
with curious Chain of goodly gold▪ so clad in courtlike ray,  
Of lively years, as fresh as Flower, a fine young man he was:  
of manly mind not caring aught, how days or years did pass.  
Not aught did want that might prefer, the greatest jollity:  
for heart and hands, both legs & limbs, were then in sovereignty,  
As thus he road incoradge bold, as well him seemed full brave:  
he met in Feild an aged man, well nigh his ghastly grave.  
Of colour pale with writhed brows, and wrinkled face to note,  
who leaned unto his feeble staff, with slender legs god wots,  
Most homely was his ragged ray, as man that card for none,  
of limbs so lean in hungry corpses, a simple soul alone,  
This lusty youth when once he saw, where such poor man abode,  
he plies his spurs to horses sides, and fast he thither road,  
And asked from whence & what he was, and what was Fortune's rage,  
why toil of youth could not provide, for this grey hored age.  
This aged man when he beheld, that lusty lad so nigh,  
he lifted up his crooked corpse and gazed with white of eye,  
And pointed up his shaking hands, that naught were else but bones,  
with feeble voice and sobbing sighs, thus pours he out his moans,  
Welcome good son, I wish thee well, in these thy timely years:  
and God increase by his decree, thy life in happy cheers.  
But 〈◊〉 have seen and tried to true, that those that run thy race:  
though youth be brave, yet age shall wail, in most unhappy case.  
For I in times have served in Court, as brave as bravest of all:  
but witless yoath, could not for see, ill haps, that might befall,  
I wail my case, and rue the men▪ that run the self same way:  
whose ends will chance a like to mine, jest forwit, will, do stay,  
Wherefore young man, take heed betime, lest folly work thy pain.  
youth stands not still, for times do fleet, as floods do flow amain:  
And since thou art a servitor, this learn of aged man,  
a miserable life thou ledst, if toils with fruits thou scan.  
Of serving men therefore will I, declare the state to thee.  
that thou forewarned by me mayst learn, to flee that misere.  
When first thou comest to service trade, it s●mth full sweet a far  
but wary be, most sweet to men, all unexpert, is war.  
And eke this talk that I declare, by preofe I know it true:  
would God I had not seen it tried, my hapless hap to rue.  
Beware by me, in present youth, who was in jollity:  
he happy is whom other's harms, do wary cause to be.  
Thy master first will thee accept, and love thee passing well:  
when lust●● Age and limbs of youth, and riches do excel:  
As long as thou canst bear thy charge, thy proper costs to spe nde,  
which thou to honour well thy Lord, dost liberally extend,  
As long as thou with m●ncy stored, or qualities art freight,  
most ●ay●e thy master speekes to thee, most joyful is his plight:  
〈◊〉 cheerful pears his pleasant face, all times continually:  
And still he saith, he full is bend to help, and cherish thee.  
●ayr words they say, make fools to feign, trust not sweat promise' kind  
before the deeds agreed to words, which thou by proof shalt find.  
For though thou be, in favour greatest, yet comes a sudden blast,  
that masters love, may turn to hate, as one despised at last.  
●till shalt thou ply, both carks and cares, for masters worthy state:  
to ride, to r●●, in heat and cold, at times both er and late,  
In perils plungr and dangers great, thou fealst continually:  
thy life thou dost adventure often, for masters cause to die,  
When others ●●●ape in quiet bed, thou ridst in nights that be,  
in shewres and 〈◊〉 to do the thing, that Lord commits to thee.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of● 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 sword, in groves and bushy place,  
〈…〉 for Master's cause, thou run'st in painful race.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in presence be, to show thy diligence,  
〈…〉 is, but all thine own expense.  
〈…〉 address, both here and there to go:  
〈…〉 and 〈◊〉 to talk and ●●yle, this is thy endless woe,  
〈…〉, now mistress speaks, now up and down go now,  
〈…〉 thou there, at all commands be thou.  
Yet when thy Master likes thee well, thy 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
and thus between Charybdis' rocks, thou ●ailst in doubtful state▪  
If both thee love, 'tis but for times, they stand 〈◊〉,  
for master gives, his ear perhaps, to fau●inge 〈◊〉.  
And then a privy foo● may work, a treuthles ●ale to ●ell:  
that favour fleeth, and master 〈◊〉, whom late he loved full well▪  
O cruel tongue, O masters fond, that so will bend 〈◊〉 ears,  
to 'cause a faithful servants ●ar●, to m●ne in 〈◊〉 c●e●re●.  
But thousand ways besides may ●rowe, displeasurs great in place,  
that shall thee bring from joyful heart, into a doleful case.  
This is the surest certainty, of service that may fall,  
this is the woeful haps of men, in place illiberal.  
At beck thou art, to come and go, a bondage 'tis ye see.  
wh● wild li●●●t 〈◊〉 servitude, if well he may go free?  
The crouked clown, with all his ●oyle, fealth not one half thy pain,  
to whom the tilled soil restores, for labours grateful gain.  
But thou for fruits so 〈◊〉 deserved, by long applied care,  
perchance may get but only hate, not one good word to spare.  
O Barren land, O fruitless field, to bring a fort to woes:  
for when they hopde to have reward, naught else but hatred grows.  
What man can judge of such a soil, that hath both eyes to see,  
but that he will account the end, a mortal misere:  
If once thou hapst away to be, when master calls thee well,  
what checks thou hast at thy return, I need not here to tell.  
Yea often we see for absence small, though cause full great appear,  
thy master taunth, and mistress frowns, as Heg of Hell she wear.  
And once if thou from favour fall, then laboureth flattering spies:  
to hoist thee out of favour clean, by lewd and knavish lies.  
And commonly this thing doth hap, when youth and goods are spent,  
for then to drive thee of in deed, his mind is fully bend:  
And soon will he give credit then, to those that thee deprave:  
alas for all our carks and cares, this is reward we have,  
When faithful man hath thus long served, in truth of tried heart:  
in th'end shall vice ingratituding, retract his just desert,  
O youth beware, O men be wise, what fool so blind is he.  
that will spend out his youthful years, such servingman to be?  
A servingman, what mome will love, their names are adsous,  
their life abhorred as wicked ways, and trade most impious,  
This will the hellish slanderous lips, of honest man report,  
and though the serving man be good, yet rails the enwous sort:  
When thus is spent thy golden youth, and many goodly years:  
and left the ways of surer life, where greater fruits appears:  
When spent be goods both stock and store, and all in service ear:  
and lived long at charge of friends, whose bags for thee go bore.  
Then cometh on thee displeasures great, at one unhappy hour.  
that master hates whom well he loved, & turns thee out his dower.  
Then age with charge and toiling pains, so many years of trust,  
are now at once on sudden lost, and all is laid in dust:  
Thus thou for toil and great expense, hast smaller reward to take:  
now age draweth on and all is spent, and all men thee forsake,  
And thou art left in beggars state, that were in youth so fine,  
what misery is like to this, what woes then like to thine?  
In hope, some live to be preferred, for work to have his gain,  
but hope may miss, though wide he gap, he gapeth perchance in vain  
Where one we see to be preferred, three live for lack as staruid.  
and other eke shall have the fruits, that they have well deseruide.  
And this is cause that I ol●e man, am poor whom none regard,  
for I have felt for service long the masters short reward,  
What greater plagues or woes can be, than lost deserved meed,  
and Lord to turn his servant of, in time of greatest need:  
Of service long this is the end, as still by proof ye see,  
for faithful hearts of servants true, these are rewards that be.  
For long expense and charge of friends, this is reward again,  
for lost of time in golden youth, this is the tried gain.  
For toiling pains and labours long, this fruitless ends that be:  
alas this is the death of some, when Lords ingrate they see,  
But chief when age, doth once appear, that labour none they have,  
the mistress cries what mak'st thou hear, be packing doting knave:  
So are they like unto the Dog in Hunt that runs his race,  
who hath in youth been well esteemed, and livide in careless case,  
But when in age he wearied is, that hunting all is past.  
go hang, they cry the cursed our, this is roward at last.  
This is the end, this is reward for pains and lost of age:  
O learn young man that service then, in none inheritage.  
A sign of this of youth ill spent, an aged man am I,  
alas not refuge is for me, O death now let me die.  
O wretched state, O cruel course, O port of penury,  
O pit of pagnes, O pesilent race, O sink of misery,  
O witless wates O fruitless facts, O badge of beggars state,  
O plump of pains O endless woes. O man infortunate.  
Retire my son this race to run, that life unsertaine is,  
who lives in state of Servitors, lives still in doubtfulness.  
What is the cause, ingratitude, withdraws the helping hand,  
since serving weights by daily toil, are praise of noble band,  
What is the state of noble troup, if servants have no powers,  
alone is known a princely port, by train of servitor?  
By service dew is well distinct, of state the right degrees:  
as servants serve in hoping hearts, and crouch with humble knees.  
Where are the men more courteous, than men of service free:  
what men are more of comely corpse, then Courtly servants be?  
Who knows the course and trade of men, but servants daily care?  
who are more feat or trim trained up, then manerd servants are?  
Who strong or tall of parsonage, but men of servants rout?  
who bears the cares & bront of wars, but servants arms so stout:  
What then of more necessity, than servitors full true:  
why then shall they have ill rewards, in th'end their states to rue?  
Lo here good son I have declared, some part of thy degree:  
be ware be times, hereafter say, that I have told it thee:  
Then came this courtly Courtier, wherein his praise redounds,  
and gave unto this aged man, for help full twenty Crowns,  
And said till death in mindful breast, this counsel will I grave,  
and eke in time I hope by wit, thereof the fruits to have,  
I thanks restored with hearty love, which tongue doth faint to tell:  
god thee preserve in happy days, O ●ather dear farewell:  
Far well (quoth he) with thousand thanks, & God thy journey speed  
which thus hast help my aged years, in times of greatest need,  
Thus said: that aged man full glad, with lingering steps on went.  
and layeth his corpse in pleasant shade, of Oaken tree to bent:  
For tongue with talk now weary was, and heart for gift was glad;  
wherefore he went to recreate, his limbs that weakness had,  
And laying down his body weak, he laid his Staff him buy,  
and leaned his head on Elbow bore, and closed his sleeping eye.   
Finis.   

Howell to his friend keeper.  

THe serving state which you reject,  
By open cause that you detect,  
Deserves so great a praise in deed,  
As great contempts cannot exceed.   

Who serves not God is void of bliss,  
In noble service freedom is,  
And he that hath clear eyes to see,  
Perceives that all men servants be.   

For Prince's greatest serve God above,  
And men them serve in God by love,  
As God giveth gifts who him regards,  
So Lord his servant true rewards.   

What great rewards of Masters be,  
By service got we daily see?  
Some Knights be dubde for their awards,  
To greater state, thence forth preferred.   

And eke we see in meaner sort,  
The Lords that keep the stately port,  
Their servants keep in jollity,  
And them prefer to dignity.   

If servants then receive their meed,  
And each man servant is in deed,  
In this dispraise of them so priest,  
Include yourself amongst the rest.   

They are preferred, why say ye no,  
Their masters gifts do daily grow,  
Exalt therefore good Courteours,  
And eke the court of Servitors.   
Finis.   

keeper his answer to. H.  

Friend How I hope thou quietly,  
To serve thy Lord most faithfully,  
No man to much can praise such men,  
No Master good depraves my pen.   

I speak of Master Covetous,  
Unkind, unjust, uncourteous,  
Unsweet, unmeet, to serve at all,  
Not good, not just, not liberal.   

Therefore ye take my word amiss,  
All servants are most true it is:  
Yet I do guess by inward mood,  
All servants serve not Masters good.   
Finis.   

¶ Imprinted at London in fleetstreet beneath the conduit. at the sign of S. john Evangelist by Thomas Colwell.