¶ A worthy Myrrour, wherin ye may marke, An excellent Discourse of a breeding Larke:
By readyng wherof, perceyue well ye may: What trust is Freendes, or on Kinsfolkes [...]o stay.

A LARKE somtimes did bréed,
within a field of Corne:
And had increase whē as yt Grayne
was redy to be shorne.
Shée wary of the tyme:
and carefull for her nest,
Debated wisely with her selfe.
what thynge to doo were best.
For to abyde the rage,
of cruell Reapers hande,
Shée knew it was to perillous,
with safetie for to stande:
And to dislodge her Broode,
vnable yet to flye:
(Not knowing whither to remoue,)
great harmes might hap therby
Therfore shee ment to staye,
tyll Force censtraynd to fléete:
And in the whyle for to prouyde,
some other place as méete.
The better to prouyde,
the purpose of her mynde:
She would forthwith go séeke abroad,
and leaue her Yong behind:
But first, shée bad them all
attend their Mothers wyll,
Which carefull was for to eschewe
each likelyhood of yll:
This Corne is ripe (quoth shée,)
wherein we nestled are:
The which (if héede preuents not harmes,)
may cause our mortall care.
Therfore to fence with skyll,
the sequeall of mishappes:
I wyll prouyde some other place,
for feare of afterclappes:
Whilste I for this and Foode,
am flowen hence awaye:
With héedefull eares attentiue bée,
what cōmers by doo saye.
Thus sayde, shée vaunste her selfe,
vpon her longest [...]oe:
And mounted vp into the Skies,
styll singing as shée flowe:
Anone shée home returnde,
full fraught with choyce of meate:
But loe, (a suddaine change) her Byrdes
for feare could nothyng eate.
Therwith agast, she cryed:
what how? what meaneth this?
I charge ye on my blessyng, tell:
what thyng hath chaunst amis?
Are these my welcomes home,
or thankes for Foode I haue?
Ye wonted were with chirping cheare,
to gape before I gaue:
But now such Quawmes oppresse
your former quiet kynde:
That (quite trāsformd) dumb mute thīgs
and Senselesse Soules I finde:
The Prime and eldest Birde,
(thus checkt) began to say,
Alas deare Dame, such news we hard,
sence ye were flowen awaye.
That were it [...]ot the truste
that we repose in you,
Our liues were lost remediles,
we know it well ynow:
The Owner of this Plot,
came hither with his Sonne,
And sayd to him, this wheat must down
t'is more then time t'were don:
Go get thee to my friendes,
and byd them come to morne,
And tell them that I craue their helpes,
to reape a péece of Corne:
The Larke that was the Dam,
stood in a dump a whyle,
And after said, his Frindes (ꝙ hée)
and then began to smile.
Tush, Friendes are hard to finde,
true friendship se [...]d appeares:
A man misse to haue a Friend,
that liues olde NESTORS yeares,
True DAMON and his Friend,
long ere our time were dead:
It was in Gréece, a great way hence
where such two friends were bred:
Our Country is to colde,
to foster vp a Friende:
Tyll proofe be made, eche one wyll say,
styll yours vnto the ende.
But trye in time of néede,
and all your friends are flowen,
Suche fruitlesse Séede, suche fickle stay
in faithlesse Friendes, is sowen:
Therfore be of good chéere,
reuiue your dulled Sprites,
Expell the Care, that causelesse thus,
bereaues you of delightes:
Let no surmised feare,
depriue your eyes of sléepe,
My selfe wyll be amongst ye styll,
that safely shall ye keepe.
And sweare [...]éene by the Tufte,
that growes vpon my Crowne:
If all his helpe be in his Fréendes,
this Corne shall not goe downe.
The Yong assured by her,
That such an Othe dyd sweare:
Dyd passe the time with wonted sléepe,
and banisht former feare.
And when the drowsie Night,
was fled from gladsome Daye:
Shée bad them wake and looke about
for she must go her way.
And saide, I warrant you,
these friendes wyll not come héere:
Yet notwithstandyng, listen well,
and tell me what you heare.
Anone, the Farmer came,
enraged wellnie madde:
And sware, who so depends on friends
his case is worse then badde.
I wyll go set my Kinne▪
to help mée with this geare,
In things of greater weight then this,
their kindred shall appeare,
The Larkes, their Dam returnd,
informed her of all,
And how, that he hymselfe was gone,
his kindred for to call:
But when she hard of Kinn [...],
shée laughinge, cried amayne:
A Pin for Kin: a [...]igge for Friendes,
yet Kinne the worste of twayne.
This man him selfe is poore,
though wealthy Kine he haue:
And kindred now a dayes doth quaile,
when néede compelles to craue.
No, no: he shall returne,
with yll contented myn [...]e:
His paynes shall yeald but losse of time,
no succoure he shall finde.
They all are so addicte
vnto their priuate gayne,
That if ye lacke power to requite,
your Sutes are all in vayne.
My selfe am ouerchardgde,
with Haruest ye maye sée,
And neerer is my Skin, then Shirte,
this shall their Answere bée.
Therfore, as [...]ars [...]e of Friendes,
so saye I nowe of Kin:
Wée shall receyue no hurte by them,
nor he no profite win.
Yet listen once agayne,
what now is Refuge is,
For kinred shalbe lyke to Friendes.
be well assured of this:
I must go furnish vp,
a Neast I haue begone:
And wyll returne and bring ye meate,
assoone as it is don.
Then vp she clam the Clowdes,
with such a lusty Laye:
That it re [...]o [...]st [...] her Yonglinges hartes
as in their Neast they laye:
And muche they did cōmende,
their Mothers lofty gate,
And thought it long til time had brought
them selues to such estate.
Thus whilste their twinkelynge eyes,
were rouyng to and fro:
They saw where as the Farmer came.
that was their mortall Foe.
Who after due complaintes,
Thus said in the ende:
I wyll from hencefoorth trust my selfe,
and not to kinne nor Friende.
Who geues me glosing wordes,
and fayles me at my néede:
May in my PATER NOSTER bée
but neuer in my CREEDE,
My selfe wyll haue it downe,
since néedes it must be so,
For proofe hath taught me too mutch wit
to trust to any mo.
The Birdes that listenyng laye,
attentiue to the same:
In [...]ormde their Mother of the whole,
as soone as ere she came.
Yée mary then quoth shee,
the case now altered is:
We wyll no longer heare abyde,
I alwayes feared this,
But out she got them all,
and trudged away apace,
And through the Corn she brought them safe,
into another place.
God send her lucke to shun
both Hauke and Fowlers Gin,
And mée the hap to haue no neede,
of Friends, nor yet of Kin,
Arthur Bour.

Printed at London by Richard Iohnes.

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