Here after foloweth the boke of Phyllyp Sparowe compyled by mayster Skelton Poete Laureate Phyllyp Sparowe Skelton, John, 1460?-1529. 1545 Approx. 45 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 33 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2003-01 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A12276 STC 22594 ESTC S110978 99846421 99846421 11386

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 Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A12276) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 11386) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 1642:8) Here after foloweth the boke of Phyllyp Sparowe compyled by mayster Skelton Poete Laureate Phyllyp Sparowe Skelton, John, 1460?-1529. [64] p. : ill. (woodcut) At the poultry by [R. Copland for] Rychard Kele, [Prynted at Loudon [sic] : [1545?]] In verse. Publisher's name and address from colophon; actual printer's name and conjectured publication date from STC. Signatures: A-D. Reproduction of the original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery.

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¶ Here after foloweth the boke of Phyllyp Sparowe compyled by mayster Skelton Poete Laureate.
PLa ce bo who is there who ¶Di le xi. Dame Margery. ¶Fa re my my Wherfore and why why For ye sowle of Philip sparowe That was late slayn at carowe Among the Nones blake For that swete soules sake And for all sparowes soules Set in our bede rolles Pater noster qui With an Aue mari And with the corner of a Crede The more shalbe your mede. WHan I remembre agayn How mi philyp was slayn Neuer halfe the payne was betwene you twayne Pyramus and Thesbe As than befell to me I wept and I wayled The tearys downe hayled But nothynge it auayled To call Phylyp agayne Whom Gyb our cat hath slayne Gyb I saye our cat Worrowyd her on that Which I loued best It can not be exprest My sorowfull heuynesse But all with out redresse For within that stounde Halfe slumbrynge in a sounde I fell downe to the grounde ¶Unneth I kest myne eyes Towarde the cloudy skyes But whan I dyd beholde My sparow dead and colde No creatuer but that wolde Haue rewed vpon me To behold and se What heuynesse dyd me pange where with my handes I wrāge That my senaws cracked As though I had ben racked So payned and so strayned That no lyfe well nye remayned ¶ I syghed and I sobbed For that I was robbed Of my sparowes lyfe O mayden / wydow / and wyfe Of what estate ye be Of hye or lowe degre Great sorowe than ye myght se And lerne to wepe at me Such paynes dyd me frete That myne hert dyd bete My vysage pale and dead Wanne / and blewe as lead The panges of hatefull death Well nye had stopped my breath ¶Heu heu me That I am wo for the Ad dn̄m cum tribularer clamaui Of god nothynge els craue I BUt phyllypes souīe to kepe From the marees depe Of Acherontes well That is a flode of hell And from the great Pluto The prynce of endles wo And from foule Alecto With vysage blacke and blo And from Medusa that mare That lyke a fende doth stare And from Megeras edders For rufflynge of phillips fethers And from her fyry sparklynges For burnynge of his wynges And from the smokes sowre Of Proserpinas bowre And from the dennes darke Wher Cerberus doth barke whom Theseus dyd afraye Whom Hecules dyd outraye As famous poetes say For that hell bounde That lyeth in rheynes bounde with gastly hedes thre To Iupyter pray we That Phyllyp preserued may be A men say ye with me ¶Do mi nus. Helpeno we swete Iesus Leuaui oculos meos in montes wolde god I had zenophontes. OR Socrates the wyse To shew me their deuyse Moderatly to take This sorow that I make For Phyllip sparowes sake So feruently I shake I fele my body quake So vrgently I am brought In to carefull thought ¶Like Andromach Hectors wyfe was wery of her lyfe whan she had lost her ioye Noble Hector of Troye In lyke maner also Encreaseth my dedly wo For my sparowe is go It was so prety a fole It wold set on a stole And lerned after my scole For to kepe his cut with Phyllyp kepe your cut ¶It had a veluet cap And wold syt vpon my lap And seke after small wormes And somtyme white bred crōmes And many tymes and ofte Betwene my brestes softe It wolde lye and rest It was propre and prest ¶Somtyme he wolde gaspe whan he sawe a waspe A fly / or a gnat He wolde flye at that And prytely he wold pant whan he saw an ant Lord how he wolde pry After the butterfly Lorde how he wolde hop After the gressop And whan I sayd / phyp / phyp Than he wold lepe and skyp And take me by the lyp Alas it wyll me slo That Phillyp is gone me fro ¶Si in i qui ta tes Alas I was euyll at ease ¶De pro fun dis cla ma ui whan I sawe my sparowe dye Nowe after my dome Dame Sulspicia at Rome whose name regystred was For euer in tables of bras Because that she dyd pas In poesy to endyte And eloquenly to wryte Though she wolde pretende My sparowe to commende I trowe she coude not amende Reportynge the vertues all Of my sparowe royall ¶For it wold come and go And fly so to and fro And on me it wolde lepe whan I was a slepe And his fether shake Where with he wolde make Me often for to wake And for to take him in Upon my naked skyn God wot we thought no syn what thought he crept so lowe It was no hurt I trowe He dyd nothynge perde But syt vpon my kne Phyllyp though he were uyse In him it was no vyse Phyllyp had leue to go To pyke my lytell too Phillip myght be bolde And do what he wolde Phillip wolde seke and take All the flies blake That he coulde there espye With his wanton eye ¶O pe ra La soll fa fa Cōfitebor tibi dn̄e ī toto cordemeo Alas I wold ryde and go A Thousand myle of groūde If any such might be foūd It were worth an hundreth poūd Of Kynge Cresus golde Or of Artalus the olde The ryche prynce of Pargame Who so lyst the story to se ¶Cadmus that his syster sought And he shold be bought For golde and fee He shuld ouer the see To wete / if he coulde brynge Any of the ofsprynge Or any of the blode But who so vnderstode Of Medeas arte I wolde I had a parte Of her crafty magyke My sparowe thā shuld be quycke With a charme or twayne And playe with me agayne But all this is in vayne Thus for to complayne ¶ I toke my sampler ones Of purpose for the nones To sowe with stytches of sylke My sparow whyte as mylke That by representacy on Of his Image and facyon To me it myght importe Some pleasure and comforte For my solas and sporte But whā i was sowing his beke Me thought my sparow did spek And opened his prety byll Saynge / mayd ye are in wyll Agayne me for to kyll Ye prycke me in the head With that my nedle waxed red Me thought of Phyllyps blode Myne hear ryght vpstode And was in suche a fray My speche was taken away I kest downe that there was And sayd / Alas alas How commeth this to pas My fyngers dead and colde Coude not my sampler holde My nedle and threde I threwe away for drede The best now that I maye Is for his soule to pray ¶A porta inferi Good lorde haue mercy ¶ Upon my sparowes soule wryten in my bede roule ☞Au di ui vo cem Iaphet cam and Sem ¶ Ma gni fi cat Shewe me the ryght path TO the hylles of armony wherfore ye berdes yet cry Of your fathers • ote That was sometyme a flote And no wethey lye and rote Let some portes wryte Deucalyous stode it hyghe But as verely / as ye be The naturall sonnes thre Of Northe patryarke That ••• de that great arke wherin he had apes and owles Beestes / byrdes / and foules That if ye can fynde Any of my sparowes kynde God sende the soule good rest I wolde haue yet a nest Is prety and as peest As my sparowe was But my Sparowe dyd pas An sparowes of the wode That were syns Noes flode was ne •• none so good Kynge Phylyp of Macedony Had no such Phylyp as I No no syr hardely ¶That vengeaunce I aske & crye By way of exclamacyon On all the hole nacyon Of cattes wylde and tame God send them sorowe and shame That cat specyally That slew so cruelly My lytell prety sparowe That I brought vp at Carowe ¶ O cat of carly she kynde The fynde was in thy mynde whan thou my byrde vntwynde I wold thou haddest ben blynde The leopardes sauage The lyons in theyr rage Myght catche ye in theyr pawes And gnawe the in theyr iawes These serpens of Lybany Myght stynge the venymously The dragones with their tonges Might poysonthy lyuer & longes The mantycors of ye montaynes Myght fede them on thy braynes ¶Melanchates that hounde That plucked Acteon to ye groūde Gaue hym his mortall wounde Chaunged to a dere The story doth appere Was chaunged to an harte So thou foule cat / that thou arte The selfe same hounde Myght the confounde That his owne Lorde bote Myght byte asoudre thy throte ¶Of Iude the gredy grypes Myght tere out all thy trypes Of Arcady the beares Might plucke awaye thyne eares The wylde wolfe Lyraon Byte a sondrethy backe bone Of Ethua the brennynge hyll That day and night brenneth styl Set in thy tayle a blase That all the world may gase And wonder vpon the From Occyan the greatse Unto the Iles of Orchady From Tyll bery fery To the playne of Salysbery So trayterously my byrde to kyll That neuer ought the cuyll wyll was neuer byrde in cage More gentle of corage In doynge his homage Unto his souerayne Alas I say agayne Deth hath departed vs twayne The false cat hath the slayne Fare well Phyllyp adew Our Lorde thy soule reskew Fare well without restore Fare well for euer more And it where a Iewe It wolde make one rew To se my sorow new These vylanous false rattes were made for myse and rattes And not for byrdes smale Alas my face waxeth pale Tellynge this pyteyus tale How my byrde so fayre That was wont to repayre And go in at my spayre And crepe in at my gore Of my gowne before Flyckerynge with his wynges Alas my hert it stynges Remembrynge prety thynges Alas myne hert it sleth My Phyllyppes dolefull deth whan I remembre it How pretely it wolde syt Many tymes and ofte Upon my fynger aloft I played with him tyttell tattyll And fed him with my spattyl with his byll betwene my lippes It was my prety Phyppes Many a prety kusse Had I of this swete musse And now the cause is thus That he is slayne me fro To my great payne and wo Of fortune / this the chaunce Standeth on varyaunce Oft tyme after pleasaunce Trouble and greuaunce No man can be sure All way to haue pleasure As well perceyue ye maye How my dysport and play From me was taken a way By Gyb our cat sauage That in a furyous rage Caught Phyllyp by the head And slew him there starke dead ¶Kyryeleyson Xp̄e leyson Kyrye leson. FOr Phypp sparowes soule Set in our bede rolle Let vs now whysper A Pater noster ¶Lauda anima mea dominum To wepe with me loke ye ye come All maner of byrdes in your kynd Se none be left behynde To mornynge loke that ye fall with dolorous songes funerall Some to synge / and sowe to say Some to wepe and some to pray Euery byrde in his laye The goldfynche / the wagtayle Tthe ianglynge Iay to rayle The fleckyd pye to chatter Of this dolorous mater And Robyn Redbrest He shall be the preest The Requiem masse to synge Softly warbelynge with helpe of the red sparow And the chattrynge swallow This herse for to halow The larke with his longe to The spynke and ye martynet also The shouelar with his brode bek The doterell that folyshe pek And also the mad coote with a balde face to toote The felde fare and the snyte The crowe and the kyte The rauyn called rolfe His playne songe to solfe The partryche / the quayle The plouer with vs to wayle The woodhacke yt syngeth chur Horsly as he had the mur The lusty chaūtyng nyghtyngale The Popyngay to tell her tale That toteth oft in a glasse Shall rede the Gospell at masse The mauys with her whystell Shall rede there the Pystell But with a large and a longe To kepe iust playne songe Our chaūters shalbe ye Cuckoue The Culuer / the Stockedowue with puwyt the Lap wyng The versycles shall syng The Better with his bumpe The Crane with his trumpe The swan of Menander The Gose and the Gander The Ducke and Drake Shall watche at this wake The Pecocke so prowde Bycause his voyce is iowde Tnd hath a glorious tayle He shall syng the Grayle The owle that is so foule Must helpe vs to houle The heron so gaunce And the cormoraunce with the Fesaunte And the gaglynge gaunte And the churlysshe chowgh The route and the kowgh The barnacle / the bussarde with the wynde mallarde Tthe dyuendap to slepe The wather hen to wepe The pussyn / and the tele Money they shall dele To poore folke at large That shall be theyr charge The semewe, and the tytmose The wodcocke wt the longe nose The threstyl with her warblyng The starlyng with her brablyng The roke / with the ospraye That putteth fysshes to a fraye And the denty curlewe with the turtyll most trew At this placebo we may not well for go The countrynge of the coe The storke also That maketh his nest In chymneyes to rest with in those walles No broken galles May there abyde Of cokoldry syde Or els phylosphy Maketh a great lye The Estryge that wyll eate An horshowe so great In the stede of meate Such feruent heat His stomake so great He can not well fly Nor synge tunably Yet at abrayde He hath well assayde To solfe aboue Ela Ea lorell fa fa Ne quando Male cantando The best that we can To make hym our Belman And let hym ryng the bellys He can do nothyng ellys Chaunteclere our coke Must tell what is of the clocke By the astrology That he hath naturally Conceyued and cought And was neuer tought By Albumazer The Astronomer Nor by Ptholomy Prince of Astronomy Nor yet by Haly And yet he croweth dayly And nyghly the tydes That no man abydes with partlot his hen whom now and then He plucketh by the hede whan he doth her trede The byrde of Araby That potencyally May neuer dye And yet there is none But one alone A Phenex it is This herse that must blys with armatycke gummes That cost great sumes The way of Thurifycation To make a fumigation Swete of reflary And redolent of eyre This corse for to sence with greate reuerence As Patryarke or Pope In a blacke cope whyles he senseth He shall synge the verse Libe / ra me In de la soll re Softly bemole For my sparowes soule Plinni sheweth all In his story naturall what he doth fynde Of this Phenyx kynde Of whose incyneracyon There ryseth a new creacyon Of the same facyon without alteracyon Sauyng that olde age Is turned into corage Of fresshe youth agayne This matter trew and playne Playne matter in dede who so lyst to rede But for the Egle doth flye Hyest in the skye He shall be thye se deane The quere to demeane As prouost pryncypall To teach them theyr ordynall Also the noble fawcon with the grefawcon The tarsell gentyll They shall morne soft and styll In theyr amysse of gray The sacre with them shall say Dirige for Phyllyppes soule The goshauke shall haue a role The queresters to controll The lanners / and the marlyons Shall stad in their mornīg goūes The hobby and the muskette The sensers and ye crosse shall fet The kestrell in all this warke Shall be holy wather clarke And now the darke cloudy nyght Chaseth a way Phebus bryght Taking his course to ward ye west god sēde my sparoes sole good rest ¶Requem eternā dona eis dn̄e. Fa fa fa my re ¶A por ta in fe re Fa fa fa my my ¶Credo vydere bona domini. I pray god phillip to heuē may fly ¶Domine exaudi oracionē meā To heuen he shall frō heuē he cam ¶Do mi nus vo vis cum Of al good praiers god sēd him Oremus. Deꝰ cui ꝓpriū est miserere & ꝑcere sum On Phillips soule haue pyte. For she was a prety cocke And came of a gentyll stocke And wrapt in a maidenes smocke And cherysshed full dayntely Thyll cruell fate made him to dy Alas for dolefull destey But where to shuld I Lenger morne or crye To Iupyter I call Of heuen emperyall That Phyllyp may fly A boue the starry sky To treade the prety wren That is our Ladyes hen Amen / amen / amen. ¶yet one thynge is behynde That now commeth to mynde An Epytaphe I wold haue For phyllyppes graue But for / I am a mayde Tymerous / halfe afrayde That neuer yet a sayde Of Elyconys well where the muses dwell Though I can rede and spell Recounte / reporte / and tell Of the tales of Caunterbury Some sad storyes / some mery As Palamon / and Arcet Duke Theseus / and partelet And of the wyfe of Bath Thay worketh moch seath whan her tale is tolde Amonge huswyes bolde How she controlde Her husbandes as she wolde And them to despyse In the homylyest wyse Brynge other wyues in thought Their husbandes to set at nought And though that rede haue I Of Gawen and syr Guy And tell can a great pece Of the golden flece How Iason it wan Lyke a valyaunt man Of Arturs rounde table with his knightes commendable And dame Gaynour his quene was somwhat wanton I wene How syr Launcelote de lake Many a spere brake For his ladyes sake Of Trystram and kynge Marke And all the hole warke Of bele I sold his wyfe For whom was moch stryfe Some say she was lyght And made her husband knyght Of the comyne hall That cockoldes men call And of syr Lybius Named Dysconius Of quater fylz Emund And how they were sommonde To Rome to Charlemayne Upon a great payne And how they rode eche one On Bayarde Mountalbon Men se hym now and than In the forest of Arden what thought I can frame The storyes by name Of Iudas Machabeus And of Cesar Iulious And of the loue betwene Paris and vyene And of the duke Hannyball What made the Romaynes all For drede and to quake How Scipion dyd wake The cytye of Cartage which by his mercyfull rage He bete downe to the grounde And though I can expounde Of Hector of Troye That was all theyr ioye whom Achylles slew wherfore all Troy dyd rew And of the loue so hote That made Troylus to dote Upon fayre Cressyde And what they wrote and sayd And of theyr wanton wylles Pandaer bare the bylles From one to the other His maisters loue to further Somtyme a presyous thyng An ouche or els a ryng From her to hym agayn Somtyme a prety chayn Or a bracelet of her here Prayd Troylus for to were That token for her sake How hartely he dyd it take And moche therof dyd make And all that was in vayne For she dyd but fayne The story telleth playne He coulde not optayne Though his father were a kyng yet there was a thyng That made tha male to wryng She made hym to syng The song of louers lay Musyng nyght and day Mournyng all alone Comfort had he none For she was quyte gone Thus in conclusyon She brought him in abusyon In ernest and in game She was moch to blame Disparaged is her fame And blemysshed is her name In maner half with shame Troylus also hath lost On her moch loue and cost And now must kys the post Pandara that went betwene Hath won nothing I wene But lyght for somer grene Yet for a speciall laud He is named Troylus baud Of that name he is sure Whyles the world shall dure Though I remembre the fable Of Penelope most stable To her husband most trew Yet long tyme she ne knew Whether he were on lyue or ded Her wyt stood her in sted That she was true and iust For any bodely lust To Ulixes her make And neuer wold him forsake Of Marcus Marcellus A proces I could tell vs And of Anteocus And of Iosephus De antiquitatibus And of Mardocheus And of great Assuerus And of Uesca his queene whom he forsoke with teene And of Hester his other wyfe With whom he ledd a plesaūt life Of kyng Alexander And of kyng Euander And of Porcena the great That made ye romayns to smart Though I haue enrold A thousand new and old Of these historious tales To fyll bougets and males with bokes that I haue red Yet I am nothyng sped And can but lytell skyll Of Ouyd or Uirgyll Or of Plutharke Or frauncys Petrarke Alcheus or Sapho Or such other Poetes mo As Linus and Hometus Enphorion and Theocritus Auacreon and Arion Sophocles and Philemon Pyndarus and Dymonides Philistion and Ph • rocides These Poetes of auncyente They ar to diffuse for me For as I to fore haue sayd I am but a yong mayd And can not in effect My style as yet direct with englysh wordes clere Our naturall tong is rude And hard to be enneude with pullysshed termes lusty Our language is so rusty So cankered and so full Of frowardes and so dull That if I wolde apply To wryte ornatly I wot not where to fynd Termes to serue my mynde Gowers englysh is olde And of no value told His mater is worth gold And worthy to be enrold In Chauser I am sped His tales I haue red His mater is delectable Solacious and commendable His englysh well alowed So as it is enprowed For as it is enployd There is no englysh voyd At those dayes moch cōmended And now men wold haue amēded His englysh where at they barke And mar all they warke Chaucer that famus clerke His termes were not darke But plesaunt / easy / and playne Ne worde he wrote in vayne Also Iohn̄ Lydgate wryteth after an hyer rate It is dyffuse to fynde The sentence of his mynde Yet wryteth he in his kynd No man that can amend Those maters that he hath pende Yet some men fynde a faute And say he wryteth to haute wherfore hold me excused If I haue not well perused Myne englyssh halfe abused Though it be refused In worth I shall it take And fewer wordes make But for my sparowes sake Yet as a woman may My wyt I shall assay In Epytaphe to wryght In latyne playne and lyght where of the Elegy Foloweth by and by ¶Flos volucrum formose vale Philippe. sub isto Marmore iam recubas Qui mihi carus eras Semper erunt nitido Radiantia sydera celo Impressus que meo Pectore semper eris Per me Laurigerum Britanum Skeltonida vaten Hec cecinisse licet Ficta sub imagine texta Cuius eris volucris Prestanti corpore virgo Candida Nais erat Formosior ista Ioanna est Docta corinna fuit Sed magis ista sapit Bien men souient, ¶The commendacions BEati in ma cu lu ti in via O glo rio sa femi na ¶Now myne hole imaginacion And studyous medytacion Is to take this commendacyon In this consyderacion And vnder pacyent tolleracyon Of that most goodly mayd That placebo hath sayd And for her sparow prayd In lamentable wyse Now wyll I enterpryse Thorow the grace dyuyne Of the muses nyne Her beautye to commende If Arethusa wyll send Me enfluence to endyte And with my pen to wryte If Apollo wyll promyse Melodyously it to deuyse His tunable harpe stryngges with armony that synges Of Princes and of kynges And of all pleasaunt thynges Of lust and of delyght Thorow 'his godly myght To whom be the laude asceybed That my pen hath enbybed with the aureat droppes As verely my hope is Of Thagus that golden flod That passeth all erthly good And as that flode doth pas All floodes that euer was with his golden sandes who so that vnderstandes Cosmography: and the stremys And ye floodes in straunge remes Ryght so she doth excede All other of whom we rede whose fame by me shall sprede In to Perce and Mede From brytons Albion Bothe towre of Babilon I trust it is no shame And no man wyll me blame Though I regester her name In the courte of fame For this most goodly floure This blossome of fresshe coulour So Iupiter me socour Se floryssheth new and new In bewte and vertew Hac claritate gemina O gloriosa femina ¶Retribue seruo tuo viuifica me La vi a mea laudabunt te BUt enforsed am I Openly to askry And to make a out cri Against odyous enui that euer more wil ly And say cursedly with his ledderey And chekes dry with vysage wan As wart as tan His bones crake Leane as a rake His gummes rusty Are tull vnlusty His herte with all Bytter as gall His lyuer / his longe with anger is wronge His serpentes tonge That many one hath stonge He frowneth euer He laugheth neuer Euen nor morow But other mennes sorow Causeth him to gryn And reioyce therin No s •• pe can him catch But euer doth watch He is so bete with malyte and frete with angre and yre His foule desyre wyll suffre no slepe In his hed to crepe His feule semblaunt Ill displseaunt whan other ar glad Than is he sad Frantyke and mad His tong neuer styll For to say yll' wrythyng and wringyng Bytyng aud styngyng And thus this elf Consumeth him self Him self doth slo with payne and wo This fals enuy Sayth that I Use greeatfolly For to endyte And for to wryte And spend my tyme In prose and ryme For to expres The noblenes Of my maistres That causeth me Studious to be Bo make a relation Of her commendation And there agayne Enuy doth complayne And hath disdayne But yet certayne I wyll me playne And my style dres To this prosses Now Phebus me ken To sharpe my pen And lede my fyst As hym best lyst That I may say Honour alway Of woman kynd Trouth doth me bynd And loyalte Euer to be Their true bedell To wryte and tell How women excell In noblenes As my maistres Of whom I thynk with pen and ynk For to compyle Sowe godly style For this most gooly floure This blossome of fresh coloure So Iupyter me socoure She flourissheth new and new In beaute and vertew Hac claritate gemina O gloriosa femina ¶Legem pone michi domine in viam iustificacionum tuarum Quēadmodum desiderat ceruns ad fontes aquarum. ¶HOw shall I report All the goodly sort Of her fetures clere That hath non erthly pere Her fauour of her face Ennewed all with grace Confort / pleasure and solace Myne hert doth so enbrace And so hath rauyshed me Her to behold and se That in wordes playne I can not me refrayne To loke on her agayne Alas what shuld I fayne It wer a plesaunt payne with her aye to remayne Her eyen gray and stepe Causeth myne hert to lepe with her browes bent She may well represent Fayre Lucres as I wene Or els fayre Polexene Or els Caliope Or els Penolope For this most goodly floure This blossome of fresshe coloure So Iupiter me socoure She florisheth new and new In beautye and vertew Hac claritate gemina O gloriosa femina ¶Memor esto verbi tui seruo tuo Seruus tuus sum ego THe Indy Saphyre blew Her vaynes doth ennew The Orient perle so clere The whytnesse of her lere The lusty ruby ruddes Resemble the Rose buddes Her lyppes soft and mery Emblomed lyke the chery It were an heuenly blysse Her sugred mouth to kysse Her beautye to augment Dame nature hath her lent A warte vpon her cheke who so lyst to seke In her vysage a skar That semyth from a far Lyke to the radyant star All with fauour fret So properly it is set She is the vyolet The daysy delectable The calumbyn commendable The ielofet amyable This most goodly floure This blossom of fressh colour So Iupiter me succour She florysheth new and new In beaute and vertew Hac claritate gemina O gloriosa femina ¶Bonitatē fecisti cū seruo tuo d • ia Et ex precordus sonāt precoma. ANd whan I perceyued Her wart and conceyued It can not be denayd But it was well conuayd And set so womanly And nothynge wantonly But tyght conuenyently And full congruently As nature cold deuyse In most goodly wyse who so lyst beholde It makethe louers bolde To her to sewe for grace Her fauoure to purchase The sker vpon her chyn Enhached on her fayre skyn whyter than the swan It wold make any man To forget deadly syn Her fauonr to wyn For this most godly floure This blossom of fressh coloure So Iupiter me socoure She flouryssheth new and new In beaute and vertew Hac claritate gemina O gloriosa femina ¶Defecit in salutare tuū aīa mea Quid petis filio / mater dulcissia ba ba SOft & make no dyn For now I wyll begyn To heue in remembraunee Her goodly dalyaunce And her goodly pastaunce So sad and so demure Behauynge her so sure with wordes of pleasure She wold make to the lure And any man conuert To gyue her his hole hert She made me sore a mased Upon her whan I gased Me thought min hert was crased My eyne were so dased For this most goodly flour This blossom of fressh colour So Iupyter me socour She flouryssheth new and new In beauty and vertew Hac claritate gemina O gloriosa femina ¶Quomodo dilexi legē tuā dn̄a. Recedant vetera noua sint oīa. ANd to amende her tale whan she lyst to auale And with her fyngers smale And handes soft as sylke whyter than the mylke That are so quyckely vayned wher wyth my hand she strayne Lorde how I was paynes Unneth I me refrayned How she me had reclaymed And me to her retayned Enbrasynge there with all Her godly myddell small with sydes longe and streyte To tell you what conceyte I had than in a tryce The matter were to nyse And yet there was no vyce Nor yet no vyllany But only fantasy For this most godly floure The blossom of fressh coloure So Iupiter me succoure She floryssheth new and new In beaute and vertew Hac claritate gemina O gloriosa femina ¶Iniquos odio habui Non calumnientur me superbi. BUt where to shulde I note How often dyd I tote Upon her prety fote It raysed myne hert rote To se her treade the grounde with heles short and rounde She is playnly expresse Egeria the goddesse And lyke to her image Emportured with corage A louers pylgrimage Ther is no beest sauage Ne no tyger so wood But she wolde chaunge his mood Such relucentgrace Is formed in her face For this most goodly floure This blossome of fressh coloure So Iupiter me succour She flouryssheth new and new In beaute and vertew Hac claritate gemina O gloriosa femina ¶Mirabilia testimoīa tua Sicutnauelle plātatōes ī iuuētute sua SO goodly as she dresses So propeeyly she presses The bryght golden tresses Of her heer so fyne Lyke Phebus beames shyne wher to shuld I disclose The garterynge of her hose It is for to suppose How that she can were Gorgiously her gere Her fresshe habylementes with other implementes To serue for all ententes Lyke dame Flora quene Of lusty somer grene For this wost goodly floure This blossom of fressh coloure So Iupiter me soconre She florisheth new and new In beautye and vertew Hac claritate gemina O gloriosa femina ¶Clamaui ī toto code exaudi me Mr̄ia tua magna est suꝑ me Her kyrtell so goodly lased And vnder that is brased Such plasures that I may Neyther wryte nor say Yet though I wryte not wt ynke No man can let me thynke For thought hath lyberte Thought is franke and fre To thynke a mery thought It cost me lytell nor nought Wolde god myne homely style Were publysshed with the fyle Of Ciceros eloquence To prase her exeellence For this most goodly floure Thus blossome of fressh coloure So Iupiter me succoure She flouryssheth new and new In beaute and vertew Hac claritate gemina O gloriosa femina ¶ Principes persecuti sūt me gratis Oībꝰ cōsideratis. Daradisus vo Iuptatis. Hec virgo est dulcissima My pen it is vnable My head it is vnstable My reson rude and dull To prayse her at the full Goodly maystres Iane Sobre / demure Dyane Iane this maystres hyght The lode stare of delyght Dame Uenus of all pleasure The well of worldly treasure She doth excede and pas In prudence dome Pallas This most goodly floure This blossome of fresshe colour So Iupiter me socoure She floryssheth new and new In beaute and vertew Hac claritate gemina. O gloriosa femina. BEquiē e • eruā dona eis dn̄e wt this psalme / Dn̄e ꝓ basti me. Shall sayle ouer the see with tibi domine commendamus On pylgrimage to faynt Iamys For shrympes / and for pranys And for stalke cranys And where my pen hath offendyd I pray you it may be amendyd By discrete consyderacyon Of your wyse reformacyon I haue not offended I trust If it be sadly dyscust It were no gentle gyse This treatyse to despyse Because I haue wrytten & sayd Honour of this fayre mayd wherefore shulde I be blamed That I Iane haue named And famously proclamed She is worthy to be enrolde with letters of golde ¶Car elle vault 'PEr me Laurigerum Britonum Skeltonida latem Laubibus eximiis merito / hec redimita puella est Formosā pocecini qua non formosior vlla est Formosam pocius / quam cōmendaret Homerus Sic iuuat interdum regidos recreare labores Nec minus hoc titulo tersa minerua. mea est. ¶Rien que playsere. ¶Thus endeth ye boke of Philip sparow / and her foloweth an addicyon made by maister Skelton THe gyse now a dayes Of some ianglynge iayes Is to discommende That they cannot amend Though they wold spend All the wyttes they haue What ayle them to depraue Phillip sparowes graue His dirige: her commendacyon Can be no derogacyon But myrth and consolacyon Made by protestacyon No man to myscontent with Phillyppes enterement Alas that goodly mayd why shuld she be afrayde why shuld she take shame That her goodly name Honorably reported Sholde be set and sorted To be matriculate with ladyes of estate I coniure the Phillip sparow By Hercules that hell dyd harow And with a venemous arow Slew of the Epidanres One of the Centaures Or onocentaures Or hipocentaurius By whose myght and mayne An hart was stayne with hornes twayne Of glytteryng gold And the appels of gold Of Hesperides withhold And with a dragon kept That neuer more slept By marryall strength He wan at lenght And slew Gerion with thre bodyes in one with myghty corage Anaunted the rage Of a lyon sauage Of Dyomedes stable He brought out a rable Of coursers and rounses with leapes and bounses And with myghty iuggyng wrestlyng and tuggyng He plucked the bull By the horned skull And offred to Cornucopia And so forth per cetera Also by Erates bower In Plutus gastly tower By the vgly Eumenides That neuer haue rest nor ease By the venemous serpent That in hell is neuer brent In Lerna the Grekes fen That was engendred then By Chemeras flames And all the dedly names Of infernall posty where soules frye and rousty By the stygyall flood And the streames wood Of Cocitus botumles well By the feryman of hell Caron with his beerd hore That roweth with a rude • or And with his fore top Gydeth his bote with a prope I coniure Phylyp and call In the name of kyng Saul Primo regum expresse He had the Phitonesse To wytch craft her to dresse And by her abusyons And dampnable illusyons Of marueylus conclusyons And by her supersticyons And wonderfull condityons Se raysed vp in that stede Samuell that was dede But whether it were so He were / idem in numero The selfe same Samuell How be it to Saull dyd he tell The Philistinis shuld hym ascry And the next day he shuld dye I wyll my selfe dyscharge To lettred men at large But Phylyp I coniure the Now by these names thre Diana in the woodes grene Luna that so bryght doth shyne Procerpina in hell That thou shortly tell And shew now vnto me what the cause may be Of this perplexite Infera Philippe Scroupe pulchr • Iohanns Instanter petut / cur nostri carminis illam Nunc pudet / est sero / minor est infamia vero Than suche as haue disdayned And of this worke complayned I pray god they be payned No worse than is contayned In verses two or thre That folowe as you may se Luride cur liuor volutris pia funera dān •• Talia te rapiant / rapiunt que fata volucre •• est tamen inuidia mors tibi contenua.

¶Prynted at London at the poultry by Rychard Kele.

Phillyp sparowes tombe.