[Page] HVNNIES RECREATIONS: Conteining foure go [...] lie and compendio [...] [...] ­courses, [...]

  • Adams Banishment.
  • Christ his [...]r [...]b.
  • The lost Sheepe.
  • The complaint of old Age.

Whereunto is newly adioyned these two notable and pith [...] Treatises:

  • The Creation or first Weeke.
  • The life and death of Ioseph.

Compiled by William Hun­nis, one of the Gentlemē of hir Ma­iesties chappel, and maister to the children of the same.

Printed by P. S. for W. Iag­gard, and are to be sold at his shoppe at the east end of S. Dunstons church. 1595.

The Muse to hir Author.

W WHy fearest thou this gift to giue,
though gift of gifts be small?
I If loue and zeale thy gift surmount,
No cause of feare at all.
[...] Let loue with guist the triall make,
and so it shall appeare,
I If troth be foreman of the quest,
wi [...] [...] i [...] passeth cleere.
A And w [...]y to whom the gift is giuen,
such one as loue doth hold,
M More deere than gem of richest pric [...]
or wall of beaten gold.
H HVmble thy selfe in awfull sort,
and doubtlesse thou shalt find:
V Vnto thy choise a patron such
to thy desired mind.
N Now fare thou well be of good cheere
blush not, ne be afraid,
N Nor care for frowne of frumping so [...]
remember what is said.
I It may so fall (yer it be long)
I will be heere with speed:
S Such thing to bring as best shall fit,
thine humour for to feed.

[...]o the right Honourable sir Thomas Heneage knight, one of [...]ir Maiesties priuy counsel, Vize­chamberlen to hir Highnesse, and tresuror of hir Maiesties cham­ber, prosperous health, long life, with much increase of honor.

Where spring is small, great streams may not be [...]ail,
Yes as it is, doe make the owner glad,
I one me compels, a cup thereof to bring,
If honor please, to tast of this poore spring.
And dip your [...]p, a little in the s [...]ne,
My ioy were great, though boldnesse [...]ris blame.
Heere I present vnto your honors view,
[...]timely fruit, as in my orchard grew,
No better choise therein that I could find,
Nor other thing that fitted to my mind,
[...] better yeare some better fruit may gr [...]w,
[...]uch as shall be are yours, my selfe also.



The Creation of the World.

How Heauen and earth the light and skie
The Sun, the Moone, and starres so hie:
How beasts and fowles, how Fish & Man
Created was of God, and whan.
The worke of the first day.
Hē God which no beginning had,
the heauen & earth gan frame,
The spiri [...] God mo [...] on the wa [...]
[...]d void and emptie it beheld,
[...]ith darkenesse on the same.
[...]nd on the waters which he made,
God sa [...] the light [...] go [...] did c [...] the light da [...] and the d [...] night. The light [...] [...] befor [...] the [...] [...] [...] moone wa [...] created.
[...]at then aloft did stand,
[...]d ouerwhelm'd the earth so farre,
[...]s yet appeard no land: (forth
[...]en at his word there light came▪
[...]iuided from the shade:
[...]d so the Euening and the morne▪
[...]y him one da [...] was made.
The worke of the second day.
THe firmament he framd and fi [...]
The water in the clouds▪ [...] be waters of the sea & riuers. [...] That is, the region of the [...]yre and all [...]hat is about us. [...] God calleth [...]he dry land [...]he earth, & [...]he gathering [...]ogether of [...]aters, called [...] the sea [...]. The earth [...] b [...]d. [...] of God [...]ght [...]orth [...] [...] [...]nd hearb: [...] [...] & [...] [...] forth [...]heir fruite [...] in their [...]nd, before▪ [...] mo [...]n [...] starres [...] created.
betweene the waters so,
As part aboue * the same did rest,
the other part * below.
And gaue a name therto, and said
it heauen * shall called be:
The euening and the morning ek [...]
the second day you see.
The worke of the third day.
THe third day at his holy hest,
the waters vnderneath
Compelled were togither goe,
in one place of the earth.
And then the land appeared dry,
which * Earth was called tho,
And bad it should bring forth gr [...]
ingendring seed to gro. (* h [...]
And fruitful trees of sundry sor [...]
that seed might still retaine,
And bring forth fruit ech after ki [...]
that on the earth remaine.
[Page 3] Thus eu'ry thing came so to passe,
as God before did say: (fruit,
The earth brought herb & tree with
that still engender may.
The worke of the fourth day.
ANd that there shuld a di [...]'rēce be,
betweene the daies and nights,
God bad that in the firmament,
there should be placed * lights.
These ligh [...] were the [...] [...] & [...]
which shuld remain frō tim to time
appointed signes to be,
[...]s day from day, and yeare from year
in order as we see:
The sun he made the day to rule,
the moone the night to guide,
[...]nd shining starres in heauen he set,
whose light doth aye abide.
The worke of the fift day.
THis mightie maker then gan say,
let waters now forth bri [...]
[...]ch * creaturs as with life may [...]
and fowle to fly with wing.
[Page 4] Vpon the earth and in the face
of heauen or starrie skie,
Strait way both fish & foule was mad [...]
in kind [...]o multiplie.
[...]hat is, God [...]ue them po [...]er to increse. [...]n. 8, 12.
God* blessed both & bad them gr [...]
the fish the sea to fill:
And feathered foule vpon the earth,
their kind increasing still.
The worke of the Sixt Day.
Now let ye earth bring forth said Go [...]
each liuing thing by kind:
As cattel, beasts, & worm that creep [...]
his power the same assign'd.
Thus whē God saw his handy wo [...]
was good and pleasd him well:
Let vs make man like vs, said he,
the rest of all t'xcell:
To haue the rule of fish and soule
of cattell and the earth:
And euery creeping thing on groū [...]
The cre [...]tiō Adam, in field of [...]asco, [...] [...] same he was [...]ught into [...]se sin­ned,
that liues and draweth breath.
And in the image of himselfe,
did* God create [...] [...]han,
Both male and female form'd he th [...]
but first he made the man.
[Page 5] And* blessed them the earth to fil,
and the sam day after mid-day he was thrust out [...]. Method us­b The propa­gation of ma [...] is the blessing of God. Gen. 8. 20. 9. Gods great liberalitie to man taketh a [...] waie al excu­ses of mans ingratitude.
their sex still to renew:
[...]nd gaue them power vpon the earth
the same for to subdue.
[...] And said, behold I haue you* giuē
of euery hearbe to eate,
[...]nd euery tree wherein is fruit,
likewise to be your meat.
[...] Also to euerie beast on earth,
and euery bird that flies: (haue
[...]nd creeping worme green herb shal
to feed vpon likewise.
[...] Al what he said so came to passe,
and he the same did see;
[...]ch kind of thing that he had made,
was good so for to be▪
[Page 6] The hallowing of the sabboth day,
The fower flouds of Paradise gay:
How in the same man had his seate.
The tree forbidden him to eate,
How Adam named Creatures al,
How Eue was made that first did fall:
And how that mariage did begin,
Betweene them twa [...]ne yer they did sin.
THus was the heauens, ye earth, ye se [...]
and creatures all therein
That is the [...], the moon [...]he stars, & [...]nets. The [...] [...] Go [...] est shew [...] [...]. [...] he [...] [...] [...] that [...] [...] the [...] be [...] [...] [...] [...]ed [...] [...] [...] tra [...] the sin Ad [...] the [...] [...] [...]as the fulfil [...] and per­ [...]tion of all [...] wor [...] [...]if
In six daies made, and in the seuenth
did God our God begin,
To* rest from all his labours done [...]
and sanctified the same:
To be a day of rest to man,
therein to praise his name.
God made [...] plant in field ye gro [...]
before [...] it was,
And [...] [...] [...]efore it grew,
[...] [...]uery other grasse.
And [...]s before that any raine
vpon the earth was found,
Or any man to haue in vse
the tillage of the groud.
A mightie mist [...] vp,
from off the ea [...] [...]
Bewatered the [...]
the earth and [...] [...].
[Page 7] The man that of the earth was made
God had [...] ended his work in mer­cy the 7. day & abated h [...] hard iudge­ment against mankind for Adams sin, his work ha [...] not bin com­plet ne per [...] insomuch as the princip [...] creature for whō he mad [...] all things w [...] lost: for whe [...] the final ca [...] of any thin [...] faileth, the worke is not complete [...] perf [...]t.
a liuing soule became,
By breath of life that God did breath,
in nostrils of the man.
And from the first god planted had,
a garden faire to see:
Wherein he set this man he made,
the keeper for to be.
And frō ye earth god made to spring
all fruitfull trees so plac't,
As both might well the eie delight,
and please the mouth in tast.
Two trees amid this garden grew,
by power of sacred skill:
The one of life, the other was
of knowledge good & ill.
From Eden went a riuer forth,
to moist this garden than:
Which afterward deuided was,
and in foure heads became.
And Pishon is the first of foure,
which round about doth go,
The golden land of Hauilah,
where th' Onix stone doth gro.
The second head is Gi [...]on calde,
which compasseth throughout.
The land of Ethyopia,
with water round about.
[Page 8] The third is named Hidekell,
that passeth downe along
The east side of Assyria,
with mightie streame and strong.
And Euphrates the fourth is cald,
which fruitfulnesse doth shew,
And in the same doth many gems,
and pretious stones forth grow.
Almighty God this Adam tooke
and in this garden set:
The same to dresse, the same to keep
and of the fruit to eate.
Of euery tree that therein was,
God bade him eate his fill,
Except the tree that's in the midst,
of knowledge good and ill.
God said, ye day thou eat'st thereof
thou for the same shalt die:
Therefore see that thou touch it not
the tast thereof to try.
It is not good (said God) that ma [...]
should be alone I see:
I will an helper make to him,
companion his to be.
Out of ye ground did god thē mak [...]
each beast vpon the earth,
And euery foule in th'ayre that flies
and all that draweth breath.
[Page 9] And God did bring al beasts and foules,
to view of Adams eie,
[...]hich was to see what kind of name
he then would call them by.
And Adam called euery beast,
and euery sowle by name,
[...]s we doe vse at this same day
to nominate the same.
In slumber then was Adam cast,
and God a rib did take
[...]om forth his side, & of the same
a woman did he make:
[...]nd fild the place with flesh againe
and when he did awake:
This is said he, bone of my bones,
and flesh of mine I see:
[...]rago, shall she called be,
as taken out of me:
And for this cause shal euery one
his parents deere forsake,
[...]nd cleaue vnto his wife alone,
and both one flesh shall make.

Adams banishment.

The person of God.
IAm, and wil be, as I was,
before the world was wrought:
I made the heauens, the earth &
[...]and all therein of naught. (sea,
[...]nely for thy vse (O man)
these mighty works did frame,
[...]d made thee Lord, and gouernor,
[...]and ruler of the same.
[...]ae't thee here in Paradise,
[...]and gaue thee will to chuse,
[...]ether my word thou wouldst obay
[...]or else the same refuse.
[...]t thou vnkind, and most vnkind,
through infidelitie,
[...]dst tast the fruit I thee forbad,
of good, and euill to be.
[...]d yet by death I threatned thee,
that thou therefore shouldst die,
[...]hou presumdst the fruit to eate,
that I did thee deny.
[...]ere didst thou shew thy vnbeleefe,
[...]nd thoughtst my wordes vntrue:
[Page 12] And thereupon did pride arise,
and foule ambition grew.
Ingratefull wast thou found thee [...]
for that thou couetdst more
then I thee gaue: yet for the sam [...]
not thankfull wast therefore.
Dost thou the son of slime and eart [...]
thinke it a thing but small,
To make thee like vnto our selfe?
but wouldst thou therewithall,
Be like to vs in Deitie,
to know what we doo know?
This mou'd our wrath frō heauen
our angels down to throw. (bo [...]
The person of Adam.
O Lord giue earth and ashes le [...]
with feare to speak to thee:
Thou knewst before that I should [...]
yer time was knowne to be.
And yer the angels kind were mad [...]
thou knewst the fall of man:
And of all things didst see the end,
yer thou the same began.
Thou mightst ye same preuēted ha [...]
if so had beene thy will:
And I in great felicitie,
might haue continued still.
[Page 13]
[...]as my foreknowledge then ye cause
of this thy wilfull fall?
[...]r dar'st thou yet so proudly thinke,
as me the causer call?
[...]hou art thy selfe both fault & cause.
and thou the same shalt find,
[...]o be thy disobedience,
and proud aspiring mind.
[...]hou hadst my law for to obserue,
which law if thou hadst kept:
[...]here had bin no transgressiō made
nor sinne in thee had crept.
[...]ost true it is, I see the end
of euery thing I make,
[...]efore it was: as proofe there is,
when I did vndertake,
[...]o fashion thee, and creatures all,
in heauen and earth that be,
[...]ho then could tell, but I alone,
and other twaine with me?
[...]nd where thou saist, I might thy fal,
haue holpen to the best:
might not with my iustice stand,
nor with my glorie rest.
[...]or I am truth, and truth I speake,
and truth shall witnesse be.
[Page 14] That thou shalt die for eating fruit,
of the forbidden tree.
What canst thou say now for thy self
thou should not iudgement haue
And die the death for thine offense,
as I thee warning gaue?
O Lord my God, I sory was,
when I my fault did see:
And was surprisde with shame & fe [...]
for so offending thee.
I hid my selfe among the trees,
ne durst I be so bold,
Before thy presence to appeare,
nor yet my selfe behold.
Such shame and feare had cōpast [...]
about on euery side:
I knew not where my selfe bestow,
nor where my selfe to hide.
If sorrow mine, if shame and feare,
may not thy fauor win:
Alas, what else to thinke or speake,
I know not to begin.
SVch sorrow, fear, & shame as thi [...]
but agrauates mine ire:
[Page 15] [...]ou shuldst haue feard before ye seltst
the fruit thou didst desire.
[...]nd yet before thou didst it touch,
thou hadst committed sin:
[...]cause thou couetdst in thy selfe,
more higher to haue bin.
[...]nce in thy will and choise it lay,
to leaue or else to take,
[...]nd ye hast tane thou shuldst haue left,
I must for iustice sake,
[...]ue sentence on thy sinfull deed,
as I before haue said.
[...]st thou ought else more for to say,
why iudgement should be staid?
O Lord my God, what shall the pot
vnto the potter say?
[...]ou hast me made of filth and slime,
of brittle earth and clay.
[...]d as the potter turnes his wheele,
with lumpe of clay in hand,
[...]ereof to shape a vessell pure,
before his eie to stand:
th'end that vessel should be vsde,
with iuice of grapes the best,
[...] thense to drink, such thirst to [...],
as bideth in the brest.
[Page 16] So Lord, if that abused be,
and filth therein remaine,
Yet can the potter when he please
the same make cleane againe:
And being cleane may be imploy [...]
vnto the potters will,
To eate or drinke in, as shall please
the cunning potters skill.
Yet with all meekenesse I confesse,
with no lesse feare I speake,
If pot the potter he mislike,
may soone in peeces breake.
But if it would the potter please,
to proue his power withall,
And see how weake the vessell is,
the conquest were but smal.
THe greatest conquest I do ma [...]
my truth is to maintaine,
I am the truth, and onely truth,
for euer to remaine.
The word I speake is verament,
and may not be denide:
As I by truth, and thou by fault,
shalt iudged be and tride.
Adam, Adam, hold vp thy hand,
this is thy iudgement day.
[Page 17]
O Lord vouchsafe to licence dust,
a little more to say.
[...]ehold how prostrate I doe lie,
before thy blessed face:
[...]ehold my fearefull quiuering hart,
most humbly crauing grace.
[...]ehold the sobs & greeuous grones,
my inward soule doth make:
[...]nd let not perish thou hast made,
for thy great glories sake.
[...]f needs thou wilt thy iustice shew,
by iudgement to proceed,
[...]hen let the party made th'offence,
be punisht for the deed.
[...] was not I the fruit first toucht,
nor pluckt it from the tree,
[...] was the woman thou me gau'st,
my helper for to be.
[...]he pluckt it off, and tasting it,
she gaue it me, and said,
[...]ehold how faire and sweet it is,
to eate be not afraid,
[...]he first did eate, and after, I
did eate thereof also.
[...]raue with all humilitie,
thou wilt no rigor show.
[Page 18]
And wouldst thou now thy self ex [...]
and put on hir the blame:
Whereas you both offenders be,
and guilty of the same?
When she a rib was in thy side,
I gaue the charge to thee,
And bad thee eate of euery fruit,
saue onely of that tree.
And now is she bone of thy bone,
and flesh of thine also:
Not fleshes twaine but both one fl [...]
togither for to go.
So both are guiltie of the crime,
whereof thou art Accusde:
And ofspring yours shall in like fo [...]
thereof not be excusde.
But woman, why didst thou this d [...]
your selues with death to greeu [...]
O Lord, the serpent me deceiu'd,
whose wordes I did beleeue.
The Serpent [...]ursed.
THou subtill guilfull serpent th [...]
because thou thus hast don:
[Page 19] Thou art accurst aboue all beasts
that in the fields doe won.
Vpon thy bellie thou shalt go,
and dust shall be thy meat:
And all the daies thou hast to liue,
no other thing shalt eat.
Twixt thee and hir of enmitie,
I will the seeds forth sowe:
As that betweene thy seed and hirs
continuall strife shall grow.
The seed of hir shall crush thy head,
and tread in peeces small:
And thou shalt tread vpon his heele,
but not preuaile at all.
The Womans Iudgement.
BVt Woman vnto thee I say,
thy iudgement shall be this:
Because thou hast intised man,
by sinne to doe amisse,
Thy sorrowes vvill I multiplie,
when thou conceiued art:
[...]nd thou thy children shalt bring forth,
with dolor, paine, and smart:
[...]nd vnderneath thy husbands povver,
shalt alvvaies subiect be,
[...]nd he shall haue the charge and rule,
and gouernement of thee.
[Page 20] ADam, Adam, hold vp thy hand,
this iudgement shalt thou haue,
Because thou hast transgrest the law
that I vnto thee gaue:
And bent thine eare vnto thy wife,
to harken what she said,
And tane and eaten, of the fruit,
that I to thee denaid:
I cursse the ground euen for thy sake,
and cursed shall it be:
In sorrow shalt thou eate thereof,
while life is lent to thee.
Wild thorne also and thistleweed,
it shall bring sorth and yeeld:
And thou shalt feed vpon the fruit
that groweth in the field.
With painefull trauel great and strong
with sweat vpon thy face,
Thy bread shalt eate, till thou returne
to earth thy former place:
For of the earth, and from the earth,
thou earth doost still remaine:
And from the earth, vnto the earth,
thou earth shalt go againe.
TO thinke what pitious more they (ma [...]
what clamors and what cries,
[Page 21] Such time as God thē both draue foorth
from heauenlie paradise:
What wringing hads, what folding arms
what teares from blubbering eies:
How oft they set them downe to weepe,
how oft againe they rise,
How oft their heauy heads they reare,
and faces to the skies:
How oft each other could embrace,
in lamentable guise,
How oft deepe sighes the hart sēds forth,
where all the sorrow lies:
Might vrge vs all from them that sprang
to waile with them likewise.
Againe to thinke how euery beast,
and euery fowle withall,
Which heretofore obedient were,
and came at Adams call,
[...]oo now from Adams presence flie,
as fearefull of his sight,
[...]nd in the woods and desarts wilde
doo take their whole delight.
[...]o thinke whereas he was before,
each thing did grow by kind.
[...]hich he as then might take at wil,
to pleasure of his mind.
[...]e tree of life to be his meat,
by death no time to fall,
[Page 22] And euery creature that was made,
to solace him withall.
How he likewise deuoid of shame,
might children there beget,
And woman to bring sorth the same,
without all greefe and let:
Must now with painfull trauell sore,
go dig and delue the earth,
Yer it can yeeld him any food,
wherewith to feed his breath:
To thinke how many hundred yeares,
his trauell did him greeue.
And how each day broght sorrowes [...]
the time he had to liue:
Might moue with ruth a marble mind,
it selfe to mollifie,
But euen to thinke or heare of this,
poore Adams tragedie.

Christ his Crib.

WHat fury haunteth vs,
that we so much delight,
To stād & gaze on monumēts,
of auncient former sight?
Of pleasure what find we,
in sumptuous buildings new:
[...]uch as our ancestors before,
the like nere saw nor knew?
[...]ehold the time is such,
vanitie beareth sway:
[...]nd fancie fond the wit doth rule,
till both come to decay.
[...]or euery priuate man,
a modull takes in hand,
[...]here wit and will, and wealth do meet,
are many platformes scand.
[...]ome costly buildings reare,
and pull them downe againe:
[...]nd othersome altar and change,
as fansie feedes the braine.
[...]nd some foundation laies,
and yer the worke be done:
[Page 24] Doth take his leaue and goeth his waie,
and leaues it to his sonne.
The sonne doth much mislike
the worke the father wrought,
And yer his fancie can be fed,
consumes himselfe to nought.
Of other some there be,
hauing of treasure store:
Which when a worke they finisht haue,
yet still deuiseth more.
What pleasure now haue such,
in lieu of cost and paine,
For only but to seed the eie,
is vanitie most vaine.
But if you faine would see,
a monument indeed:
Then goe with me, and run apace,
the better shall we speed.
I will you shew a sight,
more worth to view and see:
Then all the buildings on the earth,
what euer so they be.
And such a sight it is,
as all the fathers old:
And ancestors before their time,
the like did nere behold.
And all that liue this day,
and on the earth remaine:
[Page 25] Nor any after age that comes,
shall see the same againe.
Behold loe here it is,
a Cabin poore God knowes:
Beerent and torne, a rustie thing,
vnfurnished with showes,
Of outward sight to see,
a simple thatched cot:
Where [...]leet & snow, and raine driues in,
a ruynde place God wot.
And yet within the same,
a blessed babe doth lie:
Which yeeldeth sorth as insants doe,
many a tender crie.
This babe, euen at whose becke,
the thunder makes to quake:
The earth beneath in trembling sort,
and lofty skie to shake.
Euen here this insant doth
(being a mightie prince:
And soueraigne ruler of the world,
that shall his foes conuince)
Sucke milke from tender breast,
of blessed Mary sure:
Being his mother and a wife,
and yet a virgine pure.
[...] am no whit afraid,
comparison to make:
[Page 26] This homelie Cabin to prefer,
for this sweet Babies sake,
Before the buildings great
of stately Temples all,
And sumptuous courts and palaces,
of princes great and small.
This stable dooth surmount,
the costly Temple wrought,
With curious worke by Salomon,
which (as of right it ought)
Must yeeld and base it selfe,
and stoope this place vnto,
In which was borne the sonne of God,
as was his will to doe.
So must that glorious court,
of that high potentat,
King Cresus he of Lydia,
stand backe to this estate.
And let the Capitols
that dedicated were,
In olde time past with Idols theirs,
Vnto Dan Iupiter.
Which though they garnisht were
most magnificentlie:
With fine and curious workmanship,
of marble imag'rie:
Now yeeld this stable to,
as subiects bond and thrall,
[Page 27] As no whit to compared be,
to this in ought at all.
Let Lady Rome strike saile,
and vnder hatches go,
With stately turrets of defense,
hir wals and gates also.
And let hir capitoll,
with glasse and gold araide:
And temple Olauitrium
now shake and be afraid.
And let hir house of gold,
bedeckt with pretious stone,
Giue place with all humility,
to this poore cot alone.
[...]or now is falne to ground,
the Image made of gold:
[...]n likenesse to king Romulus,
which should together hold,
And stand for euermore,
vntill such time a child
[...]hould forth proceed and so be borne,
of virgin meeke and mild.
The image made o [...] brasse,
in womans portraiture:
[...]o high, so great, and hugie was,
for euer to endure.
Which now is likewise falne,
euen at the artsman said:
[Page 28] Yet stil shall stand vntill a child
proceedeth from a maide.
ALl Haile most rovall house,
possessor of all grace:
That was so highly dignifide,
to be the only place
Of such an holy birth,
whereby thou art to see,
More happy then the heauen it selfe
by this Natiuitie.
And neither may this cot
be thought a whit the lesse,
Meet to receiue the Sauiour
of all our trespasses.
For that the walles thereof,
were broken or berent:
Subiect to wind and weather such,
as stormes and tempest sent.
Neither for that it was
without all furniture:
As sheetes and other-needfull things,
as dayly be in vre.
Hauing but only this,
which there by chance they found,
Offtebble rough, and thistle hay,
that lay vpon the ground.
And notwithstanding this,
as you haue heard beforne:
[Page 29] Did yet receiue this little babe,
so soone as it was borne.
For such an homely crib,
and stable poore and thin,
Did well become our sauiour Christ,
for to be borne therein.
As he that to the world,
came hyther purposely:
To giue example vnto vs,
of great humilitie.
And to condemne dame pride,
and thrust hir vnder foot:
Which is of sinne and vices all,
both branches, tree, and root
In this poore thatched house,
here is no rich aray:
As hangings faire of purple hue,
nor cloth of arras ga [...]e.
In this poore silly cot,
there is no stus [...]e at all,
No chamber great, nor parlor sruas,
no kitchen, ne no hall.
Within this homely cell,
there was not to be seene,
Of any fuell, wood or cole,
a [...]ier for to teene.
There is not in this cooch,
expected for to see,
[Page 30] Of delicates and iunkets fine,
nor daintie cheere to be.
Within this cabin poore,
yee shall not here behold,
Great troopes of men for to attend,
in siluer, silke, ne gold.
Nor yet the childwife lie,
in soft and stately bed:
With quilts of silke to keepe hir warme,
nor pillow for hir hed.
No, no, but here doth lie,
in manger hard and cold:
An amiable in fant sweet,
more sweet than may be told.
Bewrapt and lapt in clouts,
both poore and bare God wot,
And swathed in such swathing clothes,
as then there might be got.
And though that he now borne,
in homely sort thus laie,
Yet was his diuine maiestie
declared that same day.
For to the Shepheards came,
that watcht their flocks by night,
The angell of the most high God,
shining with beames so bright,
As made them so afraid,
they stood in doubtfull stay,
[Page 31] [...]till the angell of the Lord,
[...]hus wise to them could say:
[...]re not, behold, I bring
[...]o you such gladsome newes,
[...] all the world shall ioy thereat,
[...]eaue off therefore to muse.
[...] vnto you this day
[...] sauiour Christ is borne:
[...]u shall him finde in manger laid,
[...]he walles be rent and torne.
[...]orthwith with th'angell was
[...] maru'lous multitude
[...]heauenly fouldiors praising God,
[...]n this sort to conclude:
[...]orie to God on high,
[...]nd peace on earth below,
[...]d vnto men reioysing great,
[...]hat this beleeue and shew.
[...]fter came to passe,
When th'angels went awaie,
[...] into heauen from whense they came;
[...]he shepheards then did say:
[...] vs to Bethleem go,
[...]hese tidinges to behold,
[...]d so went out, and when they came,
[...]hey found as th'angell told:
[...]e babe in manger laid,
[...]nd Ioseph that good man,
[Page 32] Was hard him by who prostrately,
this worke of God to scan:
Gan with a lowlie hart
and humble spirit most mild,
Fal on his knees, and worshipped
his new borne softer child.
The shepheards seeing this,
did publish vnto all,
What th'angell said, and they had se [...]
each thing as did befall:
And backe againe they went,
and praised God on hie,
That they had seene the sonne of Go [...]
in manger thus to lie.
Then with their warbling pipes,
they wont to play vpon,
Before their seuerall flockes of shee [...]
togither as they gone.
Do chaunt it now aloft
with sound of shepheards laie,
And thus with ioy solemnise they,
this blessed babes birth-day.
The virgine so likewise,
that Iesus mother was,
Which first was brought into a mus [...]
how it might come to passe:
That she a child should beare,
and knew no man at all:
[Page 33] [...] now agnize the worke of God.
[...]nd let hir eie downe fall
[...]n hir little babe
[...]hich God to hir had sent,
[...]e hir sauiour, and of all
[...]ho euer doe repent.
[...] then she tooke hir babe,
[...]nd dandled it a while:
[...]ther while she gaue it sucke,
[...]is crying to beguile.
[...] many kisse it gaue
[...] it lay in hir arme:
[...] thē with clothes, such as they were,
[...]elapt it well and warme.
[...] while the breast she giues,
[...]e quieter to keepe:
[...]ther while she lulleth it,
[...]d husheth it asleepe.
[...] thus in most sweet guise,
[...]d amiable sort:
[...] time they passe with mirth and ioy,
[...]d many another sport.

The lost Sheepe.

SIth that the heauen of heauens
where God and angels be,
Is made the seate wheron I sit,
by mightyest power decree:
[...]d that the Earth beneath,
where hearbe and grasse doth growe,
[...]ere men and beasts and liuing things
do creepe thereon and goe:
[...]or my foot the stoole,
ordeined long before,
[...]r world was wrought, or angell made,
or ought else lesse or more.
[...]th I am Lord thereof,
and all these thinges be mine,
[...]en tell me man what moueth thee,
from me thus to decline?
[...]nd seekest other waies,
these things for to obtaine:
[...] fond and frantike is thy wit,
so feeble is thy braine.
[Page 36] Which way thou car'st not how,
rather than come to me:
Being the well and fountaine spring,
of all good things that be.
I also readie am,
on thee for to bestow,
Each good that is, if thou but aske,
I must my kindnesse show.
Such is my loue to thee,
not changeable, but sure,
I loued thee before thou wast,
which loue shall stil endure.
When thou a sinner wert,
and wickednesse didst vse,
To giue my bloud and life for thee,
the same did not refuse.
Thou art now iustifide,
by shedding of my bloud,
And reconciled by my death:
wherein thou art made good.
For I that knew not sin,
was yet made sinne for thee:
That thou mightst be the righteousne [...]
of th'onlie God in mee.
And I doe thee assure,
it did me greatlie please,
To beare thy sin and wickednes,
thy weakenes and disease.
[Page 37] [...]ou but trust in me,
[...]d stedfastlie beleeue:
[...]re shal no torment, paine, or smart,
[...]r any sinne thee greeue.
[...] through my special grace,
[...]nd mercies great in store,
[...]omise thee I will henceforth,
[...]inke on thy sinne no more.
[...] in the deepe alow,
[...]nd bottome of the Sea,
[...]ue all thine iniquities,
[...]or euer throwne awaie.
[...]y doost thou toile and moile,
[...]nd after shadowes run?
[...]d shun'st the waie that leads to me,
[...]hich am Gods onlie sonne?
[...] the giuer sure,
[...]f true felicitie:
[...]d yet for it be very few,
[...]hat seeketh vnto me.
[...]utie allureth much,
[...]nd rauisheth the mind:
[...]d drawes vnto it flockes of men,
that louing seeme and kind.
[...]dlo, behold and view,
nothing more faire to see
[...]an I, and yet not one there is,
will be in loue with me.
[Page 38] In honourable stiles,
doe many take delight,
And of ancient nobilitie,
doe claime descents by right.
And yet nothing there is,
of ancient high degree,
In title, stile, or chiefe descent,
that goeth before me.
For while I am the sonne
of God most glorious,
And mother mine a virgine was,
and my name is Iesus.
Which name was giuen to me,
not vnaduisedly:
Nor at aduenture, and by chance,
as names are commonly.
Nor was it giuen by man,
but by an angel sent
To tell of my Natiuitie,
the purpose and intent.
And vnder heauen there is
none other name but this:
Giuen vnto men their soules to saue
from all their trespasses.
How hapneth it therefore,
that scarsely on the ground,
Can any one that willing is
to ioyne with me be found.
[Page 39] [...]his societie
[...]hich I so much desire:
[...] not for me, but for your good,
[...]hat I the same require.
[...] the Monarch cheese,
of heauen, of earth, & all,
[...]y then are you so loth and shamde,
to come when I you call?
[...]m most rich indeed,
and ready for to giue
[...]th great and many benefites,
to all in saith that liue.
[...]reatly doe desire,
and very faine would haue
[...]titions made, that I might giue,
to such as on me craue.
[...]t now alas behold,
not one that vnderstands
[...]ow for to aske nor come to me,
to craue ought at my hands.
[...]m the wisedome cal'd,
of God my father deare:
[...]nd so I am in very deed,
and yet for loue ne feare,
[...]ill any mortall wight,
vouchsafe to seeke me out,
[...]o aske me counsell of that thing
whereof he is in doubt,
[Page 40] I am the brightnesse great,
of fathers glorie mine,
And of his heauenlie maiesty,
the image most diuine.
And yet no man thereby,
of what estate or gree,
The more to honour mooued is,
nor yet to reuerence me.
I am a pleasant friend,
a trustie friend also,
To him that willing is to be
my friend, and with me go.
I doe bestow my wealth,
my riches and my store,
On them I loue with willing mind,
what can be asked more?
And yet none goes about
to enter in with me:
To this sweet amiable league,
of friendships high degree.
I am the only waie,
that vnto heauen doth lead,
And yet but very few there be,
that vse my pathes to tread.
Why doe the ignorant
b [...]tred people blind,
Not trust in me, seeing I am
the only truth to find?
[Page 41] [...] then doost thou refuse,
[...]y promise to beleeue:
[...]e is so saithfull as I am,
[...]d none may more thee greeue.
[...] sithe I am of life
[...]e author, and of breath:
[...]t meane you then, by leauing me,
[...] follow after death.
[...] your only light,
[...] darkenesse is in me:
[...] yet will wilfull foolish men,
[...] darkenesse rather be.
[...] the perfect rule
[...] liuing righteouslie,
[...] then doost thou seek other formes,
[...] square thy life thereby?
[...]ely am alone,
[...]e pleasure sweet and true,
[...]hout all gall or bitternesse,
[...]iected yet of you.
[...] the peace of mind,
[...]nd comforter likewise,
[...]ll afflicted consciences,
[...]hen stormie troubles rise.
[...]y then doe not these men
[...]hat vexed be in mind,
[...]e vnto me for their releefe,
[...]hich they are sure to find?
[Page 42] If Lyons wilde and dumbe,
themselues can thankefull show
To such as any benefite
vpon them did bestow.
Or if the Dragons fierce,
haue gratefull learn'd to bee,
Or mastife curs their masters know
and fawne when they him see.
If Eagles loue returne
to such as keepe them well:
And Dolphins likewise kindnesse [...]
as you your selues can tell:
If other beastes likewise,
depri'ud of reasons sence,
Can to their benefactors vse
both loue and reuerence:
Why wilt thou then (ô Man)
thy selfe set forth to be,
More brutish than the sauage beast [...]
denying loue to me?
Seeing that to thy vse,
and onely for thy sake,
All things that be, yea thou thy selfe
of nothing did I make.
And with my precious bloud,
redeemed thee haue I,
From sin, from death, from hell & p [...]
and that most willingly.
[Page 43] And if the oxe doth know,
his owner that him sed,
The asse likewise his maisters crib,
that standeth him in stead:
Why doost not thou vnkind,
and churlish man to mee,
Acknowledge me to be the same,
that hath redeemed thee?
am alone to thee,
all things that thou would haue:
And I alone will furnish thee,
with all things thou canst craue.
Why runnest thou about,
gadding from place to place,
To seeke elsewhere thy benesit,
distrusting of my grace:
Why busiest thou thy selfe,
in many needlesse waies,
And dost frequent the companie,
of skornefull wicked straies?
As I am mercifull,
so easie to intreat:
Thou wretched man seeke vnto me,
despaire not though I threat.
Yea sith I am the iust
reuenger of thy sin:
Why therefore art thou not afraid,
me to offend therein?
[Page 44] I can euen with a becke,
cast downe thy soule to hell,
And yet my iudgements searest not,
nor all the thrents I tell.
Wherefore thou foolish man,
if thou so wilfull be,
Headlong to run vnto thy death,
by thy forsaking me:
Blame but thy selse therefore,
and blame not me at all,
For thou thy selfe the author art,
of thy decaie and fall.
For what can I doe more?
seeing th'excessiue loue,
That I thee bare with tender care,
can no whit thee remoue.
O flintie harted man,
with rockie stonie brest:
Which cannot be with loue reclaim'd,
nor mercies mine exprest.
Nor will perswaded be,
with such an hope assur'd,
Of heauenly ioyes and riches great,
ready for thee procur'd:
Nor can awaked be,
with promises diuine:
Not any whit be terrifide,
with seuere sentence mine:
[Page 45] Nor be admonished,
with any shame of sin:
But rather so egregiouslie,
perseuer stiii therein:
That thou doost sar surmount,
the sauage beasts in kind,
And doost possesse an yron hart,
more hard than steele to find.
What can pittie preuaile,
alas, in such a place,
In such a peruerse froward hart,
becankred void of grace?
To saue one gainst his will,
and rid him from distresse,
Doth neither stand with wisdoms law,
nor yet with righteousnesse.

The complaint of Old-Age.

IN search of secret such,
as is beneath the sunne: find)
Each thing by kind his course doth
by natures skill to run.
We see the stricken deere,
hath caught a bleeding wound:
And yet by eating of an herbe,
becommeth whole and sound.
The hound a hurt receiues,
that greeueth him with paine
By onely licking with his toong,
himselfe doth heale againe.
And if he sicklie be,
with inward greefe or sore:
He eateth grasse himselfe to purge,
which doth his health restore.
The merlings and wood doues,
the Partridges and Iayes:
Do purge their superfluitie,
with onely hearbe of Bayes.
The Pigeon and the Hen,
the Turtle Doue also:
Themselues doth cure with pellitor,
[Page 48] that on the wall doth grow.
The wild and sauage Bore,
by eating Cedria,
Do helpe themselues, and so doe beares,
with hearbe Mandragora.
The lothsome Snake with age,
both feeble is & blind:
Who slowlie slides from place to place,
some narrow straight to find,
Through which he straines himselfe,
thereby his skin to cast:
And so new health with strength & sight,
he purchaseth at last:
The Lizard in his age,
doth change and cast his skin:
And sits ope eyed against the East,
the sun may enter in:
The heat whereof doth dry,
the humour of his eyes:
By which his sight againe he takes,
in corner where he lies.
The Eagle being weake,
much greeuous mone doth make:
Bicause his bill is growne so long
he can no sust'nance take:
Yet nature hath him taught,
some rocke or stone to find,
Against the which his bill beats off,
and so gets health by kind.
[Page 49] When as the Pellican
behols hir birds late slaine:
[...] poison that the Serpent shed,
tormented is with paine.
[...]nd then doth with hir bill,
hir tender breast berent:
[...]nd so hir birds reuine againe,
by bloud vpon them sprent.
[...]he Lapwing being old,
to see nor flie she may,
[...]ntill hir birds such feathers plucke
as causeth hir decaie:
[...]nd then with iuice of hearbs,
hir eies doe rid from paine,
[...]nd hide hir vnderneath their winges,
till she be whole againe.
[...]he Swallow in like sort
perceiues hir yonglings eies
[...]o be depriued of their sight,
foorth from the neast she flies,
[...]nd findeth out an hearbe
that Celedoni hight,
[...]nd doth returne, and with the same
restores to them their sight,
[...]hus doe we see and know,
that nature beareth swaie,
[...] creatures such as reason wants,
to helpe them what she may.
[Page 50] BVt now to you my friends,
that Physicke doe professe:
Which by your skill and learning gre [...]
doe many greefes redresse.
And with the same we know,
you often bring to passe,
Sweet health againe for to restore,
where dangerous sicknesse was.
Ofhealth to write the praise,
I wish he could that can:
Health is one of the goodlyest giftes,
that God hath lent to man.
Health listeth vp the mind,
and makes the body light:
Health doth bedew the face with blou [...]
that fresh is to the sight.
Health makes the sinewes strong,
more trauell to endure:
And health vnto the man that's wise,
great comfort doth procure.
What profit health doth bring
to those that students be:
No toong can tel, but such as sucke,
the Nectar from the tree.
By health the husbandman
both tils and sowes the land:
Without the which no prince may say,
he able is to stand.
[Page 51] And euery man besides,
that liues in common wealth,
As some by skil, and some by strength,
through power of noble health,
The same likewise supports,
in order as they ought:
And but for health all gouernments
to ruine come and naught.
If health be done away,
then life is worse than death,
For death makes end of sorrowes all,
by stopping of the breath.
Of earthly treasures all,
health is to be preferd
Before all thinges that eie hath seene,
or eare hath euer heard.
A Question would I aske,
thereby not to offend:
What is the cause that physicks art,
cannot old age defend?
By cunning and by skill,
great cures ye doo each day:
But age will not remoued be,
nor yet kept at a stay.
No physicks art ne drug,
nor potion can ye make:
Can force old age for to exchange,
the place that he doth take.
[Page 52] Age stealeth on vs so,
yer ye can doo vs good:
That suddenly it quailes the strength,
and dooth forestall the blood.
Whereby the humour fresh
is brought vnto decay:
And gallant vigor of the mind,
is forst to flie awaie.
And looke what lustie age,
in yoonger yeares brought forth,
The same old age hath cleane defac't,
and made it nothing worth.
A thousand maladies
vpon old age depend:
Which peecemeale wise away do pluck [...]
what fragrant youth did send.
Beautie is worne awaie,
fresh bloud is turn'd to blacke:
Wit is made dull, the memorie lost,
and liuelinesse dooth lacke.
Age makes our sleepes vnsure,
our eiesight for to faile:
Our courage and actiuitie,
our strength and all to quaile.
The vitall heat is cold,
delights are driuen to shore:
Nourishing iuice and breathing sweet,
are gone for euermore.
All merriments and sports,
[Page 53] conceits, else what ye will:
[...]nd to be short, man from himselfe
age takes and wasteth still.
[...]ge leaueth vnto man
only of man the name:
[...]r what man was in times forepast,
now nothing like the same.
[...]en tell me this I pray,
whether it may be cald
[...]ld age: or rather liuing death,
that thus mans life hath thrald?
O Who is he can tell
the thing that dealeth thus:
[...]at with such posting speed can steale,
our chiefest time from vs?
[...]d that so hastilie,
can taint our golden yeares:
[...]ith groning greefes and great annoy,
prouoking bitter teares?
[...]hat dealing may this be,
it is vnegall sure,
[...]at flouring age so so one should end,
no longer to endure?
[...]d that before we know,
the goodnes of the thing:
[...]ey ready are vs to forsake,
by flight of speedy wing.
[Page 54] And sooner than we knew
or felt the life we craue:
We are forbidden by and by,
a longer life to haue.
Yet beasts of sundry kindes,
and fowles aloft that flie,
Aboue two hundred yeares doe liue,
before that they doo die.
The stag, the bucke, the Rauen,
the Elephant also,
So long doe liue in lustie plight,
and healthfullie doe shew.
But man, alas poore man,
before that he may clime
To fifty yeares, his bodily strength,
doth very much decline.
And if that he may reach
to threescore yeares or more:
His waining wit and memorie
is weaker than before.
The Thebans held a law,
who threescore yeares did liue:
If after that he then fell sicke,
none might him physicke giue.
That age obtainde, say they,
himselfe ought not to bend,
Longer to liue, but hasten forth,
vnto his iournies end.
Experience dooth confirme,
[Page 55] and proueth this too true:
That lately such as lustie were,
in valor, strength, and hue,
Are now through age become,
all crooked to behold:
Their heads with white bespeckled are,
their heat is turnde to cold.
The frost their beards hath caught,
which maketh them to thinke,
How that the spring of their greene age,
is past and still doth shrinke.
OFlitting youth adieu,
age makes all things decline:
O too too short a fading floure,
of transitorie time:
Which by no waie nor art,
can be repair'd againe:
The winter cold the heat hath nipt,
and ransackt euerie vaine.
O greene and sprouting yeares,
ô gallant youth that's past:
What sweet and pleasant merry daies,
were spent while you did last?
O happy time of life,
how slily doth it passe:
And steales away making exchange
for purest gold but brasse.
How closely is it gone,
[Page 56] and not perceiu'd at all:
And glides away as doe the streames,
which downe a riuer fall?
More swift it may be said,
than emptie clouds that flie
By force of winds that tosse them roun [...]
in compasse of the skie.
Like dreames that passe awaie,
within our sleepes we see:
When we awake nothing there is,
of that we dreamt to bee.
The sweet and fragrant rose,
now delicate in sight:
Within short time all withered is,
and turnd as daie to night.
And so likewise of man,
from child to man doth grow:
From man againe a childe becoms,
old age will haue it so.
WHile that the little boy,
with top and scurge gan plaie [...]
And while the stripling goes to school [...]
his grammer part to say.
While those of further yeares,
phylosophie doe read,
And cull the bloomes of Rhetorike,
and figures finely spread.
While they themselues delight,
[Page 57] [...] in poets fables vaine:
[...]nd while they range in arguments;
[...] which Logicke can maintaine.
[...]hile they the time imploie,
[...] to publish matters small:
[...]hough of no weight) by eloquence
[...] to shew their skill withall.
[...]hile like the bee they skip,
[...] from bloome to blossome blowne:
[...]nd for their purpose sucke the fruit,
[...] by sundrie authors sowne.
[...]hile they disposed so,
[...] by studie to attaine,
[...]e knowledge of the liberall arts,
[...] no labor doe refraine.
[...]d while that without end,
[...] their troubled braines they beat,
[...] find out euerie facultie,
[...] grafted in science seat.
[...]ile they the Greeke translate,
[...] in Latine for to goe:
[...]d Latine into Greeke likewise,
[...] their cunning forth to shew.
[...]ile forren toongs they seeke,
[...] their knowledge to maintaine:
[...]d feare not to transfret the seas,
[...] and Alpes to clime with paine.
[...]ile they themselues acquaint,
[Page 58] with countries that be strange,
With forrē courts, with things vnkn [...]
and other things of change.
While they thus busie be,
stifle age comes stealing in,
And laies his crutch vpon their bac [...]
and dooth the maistrie win:
So much that they be driuen,
to maruell and to muse:
How that their strength so suddenly,
should them faile or refuse.
And though the same they feele,
yet not perswaded are:
That lustie gallant youth of theirs,
should be remoou'd so far.
ALas why should we then,
so carefullie appeare:
As to consume our golden age,
with search of trifles here:
As pearles and gems of price,
of gold and siluer pure:
Of scarlet, silke, and cloth of gold,
which may not long endure:
And wast fully consume,
and wilfully to spend
Our golden yeares in vanities,
and all to no good end?
Againe, if that those things,
[Page 59] which transitorie be:
[...]re lost or stolne or burnt with fire,
there is a meane we see.
[...]e same may be in time,
recouered againe:
[...]hou as poore as Codrus were,
[...]or Irus did remaine:
[...]t hope to be as rich,
[...]as Crassus heretofore:
[...] that thy substance and thy wealth,
may match with Croesus store.
[...]t as for creeping age,
when Clotho hath begun:
[...]on hir clew thy thred to wind,
that Lachesis had spun,
[...]n neuer be reuok't,
againe to be vntwinde:
[...]no inchantment, charme, or force,
that wit of man can finde.
NOt Circes with hir charme,
nor Mercurie with his rod:
[...]or yet Medea with hir drugs,
can stay this worke of God.
Iupiter himselfe,
thy bellie full would fill,
[...]ith Nectar and Ambrosia,
which some of learned skil
[...]aue writ that by such things,
[Page 60] youth still they might maintaine:
And banish old age in exile,
for euer to remaine.
No, no, it will not be,
though that Aurora faire,
Would day by daie thy bodie bath,
with deaw of heauenly aire.
No, though ten thousand times,
sweet Venus for to please,
Thou paine thy selfe as Phao did,
to ferry Chyos seas.
No, though Chiron himselfe,
should vnto thee applie,
All soueraigne hearbs that spring or [...]
on earth beneath the skie.
Nothing there is can stop,
the course of yeares that slide:
Nor keepe them from our weary backe
but must the same abide.
In deed of tales we read,
and fables haue beene told:
How Orpheus and Amphion,
with other poets old,
Haue by their magicke art,
made riuers still to staie:
And to returne vnto those springs,
backeward another waie.
Diana stopt hir coach,
Phoebus his steeds so staid:
[Page 61] [...]ade his chariot still to stand,
[...] listen what they said.
[...] let these idle tales
[...] thought vpon no more: (wroght
[...]f they could such things haue
[...] [...] is said before:
[...] might they bring,
[...]e age thou once possest,
keepe thee in the age thou art,
[...]ile life is in thy breast.
[...] yet the sunne goes downe,
[...]d takes his beames awaie:
doth arise most gloriouslie,
[...]e next insuing day.
moone a waining hath,
[...]t afterward a change:
[...] doth receiue hir former light,
[...]d reuolution strange.
[...]er growes yong againe,
[...] frostie cold once spent:
[...]er turn'd into a spring,
[...]at doth vs well content.
yet the state of age,
[...]at flits awaie so fast:
[...] when the summer time thereof,
[...] once consum'd and past:
[...] that the winter sharpe,
[...]th horie frost and cold:
[...] the head and withered face,
[Page 62] with snow hath taken hold:
No hope is then at all,
for any spring to crie,
Nor yet for any Ver to come,
where root and stocke is drie.
THere resteth now but this,
of remedies the best:
Which is, that death those euils shal [...]
and set the soule at rest.
We learne for to be wise,
too late when youth is gone:
And doe begin to muse thereof,
when remedie is none.
We then bewaile our life
in vanitie mispent:
And doo detest those wilfull waies,
we did in youth frequent.
We curse that now in age,
which youth delighted in:
And that which then most sweet did [...]
is now most bitter sin.
The thoughts thereof torment
our guiltie conscience sore,
With greefe and paine we doe lamen [...]
our youth abusde before.
And to our selues gan saie,
what treasure haue we spilt:
And reapt thereby vnto our selues,
[Page 63] [...] sorrow, death, and guilt?
life God knowes is short,
[...]certaine of the same:
[...]inke on time so vainlie spent,
[...]ight make vs blush with shame.
[...] sleepe let vs awake,
[...]d rise from sin at last,
[...] time it is for to repent,
[...]r former follies past.
youth hath taken horsse,
[...]d posteth day by daie,
[...]ite and summon pale face death,
[...]th speed to come away.
[...]th is the true refuge,
[...]e onely perfect health:
dooth deserue to be embrast,
[...]fore all worldlie wealth.
[...]th is the thing most deare,
[...]e best thing to be had:
a thing that God hath giuen,
[...]herewith to make vs glad.
[...]an with his estate
[...]ntented is we see:
[...] those that lie asleepe in graue,
[...]ey well contented be.
graue is a strong fort,
[...]herein our selues we shut,
[...] the assaults of yrkesome life,
[...]d broiles of Fortunes cut.
[Page 64] The dead we know doo rest,
as in a hauen of ease:
Where those that liue doe saile in [...]
of rough and raging seas.
Death is vnto the euill,
a whip of smarting paine:
And to the good a sweet reward,
of euerlasting gaine.
THe common custome is,
to flatter them that liue:
And of the dead reprochfull words,
and ill reports to giue.
But sure the fault is great,
to speake ill of the dead,
Who harme them not but quietlie,
doe rest within their bed.
As no man is so good,
but better might haue beene:
So no man liues that is so bad,
but worsser name might win.
For as there is some cause,
a man for to dispraise:
So in the same some vertue dwels
that his renowme might raise.
And therefore of the dead,
I wish to speake the best:
And praise the vertues which they [...]
and let their vices rest.
[Page 65] [...]s our course direct,
[...]ile perfect mind we haue:
set our compasse toward Christ,
[...]o onely must vs saue.
[...]im from henceforth now
[...]r onely studie be,
pleasant muse, our cheese delight,
[...]r ioy and libertie.
[...]s not care at all,
[...]r worldlie matters vaine:
for the bodie, so the soule
[...]th Iesus Christ remaine.
[...]e soule and bodie both,
[...]ll at the iudgement daie,
[...]ed be and sentence heare,
[...]ich Christ himselfe shall say.
[...]h grant ô father deare,
[...] Christ his sake thy sonne,
[...]e vnto our endlesse ioy,
life that is to come.



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