[21.] Nothing is comparable vnto a faithfull freend.

SIth this our time of Freendship is so scant,
Sith Freendship nowe in euery place dooth want,
Sith euery man of Freendship is so hollowe,
As no man rightly knowes which way to followe,
Sease not my Muse, cease not in these our dayes,
To ryng loude peales, of sacred Freendships prayse.

If men be nowe, their owne peculier freendes,
And to their neighbours Freendship none pretendes.
If men of Freendship shewe them selues so bare,
And of their brethren take no freendly care.
Forbeare not then my Muse, nor feare not then,
To ryng disprayse of these vnfreendly men.

Did man of Freendship knowe the mightie power?
Howe great effectes it woorketh euery houre.
What store of hidden freendship it retaynes,
How still it powreth foorth aboundaunt gaynes.
Man would with thee my muse in these our dayes,
Ryng out loude peales, of sacred Freendships prayse.

Freendship, releeueth mans necessitie,
Freendship, comforteth mans aduersitie.
Freednship augmenteth mans prosperitie,
Frendship preferres man to felicitie.
Then ryng my muse, ryng out in these our dayes,
Ring out loude peales, of sacred Freendships prayse.

Of Freendship, froweth loue and charitie,
By Freendship, men are linked in amitie:
From Freendship, springeth all commoditie,
The fruite of Freendship, is fidelitie.
Oh ryng my Muse, ryng out in these our dayes,
Peale vpon peale, of sacred Freednships prayse.

That man with man, true Freendship may embrace,
That man to man, may shewe a freendly face:
That euery man, may sowe wuch freendly seedes,
As Freendship, may be found in freendly deedes.
And ioyne with me my Muse in these our dayes,
To ryng loude peales, of sacred Freendships prayse.

Finis. F. K.

---

[22.] Respise finem.

TO be as wyse as CATO was,
Or ritch as CRESVS in his life:
To haue the strrength of Hercules,
Whiche did subdue by force or strife.
What helpeth it when Death doth call,
The happy ende exceedeth all.

The Ritche may well the Poore releeue,
The Rulers may redresse eche wrong:
The Learned may good counsell geue,
But marke the ende, of this my song.
Who dooth these thinges, happy they call,
Their happy ende exceedeth all.

The happiest end, in these our dayes,
That all doo seeke, both small and great:
Is eyther for Fame, or els for Prayse,
Or who may sitte in highest seate.
But of these thinges, hap what hap shall,
The happy ende exceedeth all.

A good beginning oft we see,
But seldome standyng at one stay:
For fewe doo lyke the meane degree,
Then prayse at parting some men say.
The thing whereto eache wight is thrall,
The happy ende exceedeth all.

The meane estate, that happy life,
Whiche liueth vnder gouernaunce:
Who seekes no hate, nore breedes no strife,
But takes in woorth his happy chaunce,
If contentation him befall,
His happy end, exceedeth all.

The longer lyfe that we desyre,
The more offence dooth dayly growe:
The greater paine it dooth require,
Except the Iudge some mercie shewe.
Wherefore I thinke, and euer shall,
The happy ende exceedeth all.

Finis. D. S.

---

[23.] He perswadeth his freend, from the
fond effectes of loue.             

WHY art thou bound, and maist goe free,
Shall reason yeelde to raging wyll?
Is thraldome like to libertie?
Wylt thou exchange thy good for ill?
Then shalt thou learne a childishe play,
And of eche part to taste and proue,
The lookers on, shall iudge and say,
Loe this is he that liues by loue.

Thy wittes with thoughtes, shal stand at stay,
Thy head shall haue but heauie rest:
Thy eyes shall watche for wanton prayes,
They tongue shall shewe thy hartes request.
Thy eares shall heare a thousand noyse,
Thy hand shall put thy pen to paine:
And in the ende, thou shalt dispraise,
The life so spent, for such small gaine.

If leue and list might neuer cope,
Nor youth to runne from reasons race:
Nor yf strong sute might winne sure hope,
I would lesse blame a louers case.
For loue is hotte, with great desire,
And sweete delight makes youth so fond,
That little sparkes wyl prooue great fyre,
And bring free hartes to endlesse bond.

Finis. [Anon.]

---

[24.] Wantyng his desyre, he complayneth.

THe sayling ships with ioy at lenght, do touche the long desired port,
The hewing axe ye oke doth waste, ye bettring Canon breakes ye fort.
Hard hagard Haukes stope to ye lure, wild colts in time ye bridle tames,
There is nothing so out of vre, but to his kinde long time it frames.
Yet this I finde in time, no time can winne my sute,
Thought oft the tree I clime, I can not catche the fruite.

And yet the pleasant branches oft, in yeelding wyse to me doo bowe,
When I would touch, they spring aloft, sone are they gone, I wot not howe:
Thus I pursue ye fleting flood, like Tantalus in hel belowe,
Would god my case she vnderstood, which can ful sone releue my woe:
Which yf to her were knowen, the fruite were surely mine,
She would not let me grone, and brouse vopn the rine.

But if my ship with tackle turne, with rented sailes must needes retire,
And streame & wind had plainely sworne, by force to hinder my desire:
Like one that strikes vpon ye rocks, my weerie wrack I should bewaile
And learne to know false fortunes mocks, who smiles on me to small auaile:
Yet sith she only can, my rented ship restore,
To helpe her wracked man, but once I seeke no more.

Finis. M. Edwardes.

---

[25.] Trye before you trust.

IN freendes are found a heape of doubtes, that double dealing vse,
A swarme of such I could finde out, whose craft I can accuse:
A face for loue, a hart for hate, these faigned freendes can beare,
A tongue for troth, a head for wyles, to hurt eche simple eare.
In humble port is poysen pact, that plainenesse can not spie,
Which credites all, and can not see, where stinging serpentes lye:
Through hastie trust, the harmlesse hart, is easely hampred in,
And made beleeue it is good golde, when it is lead and tin.
The first deceit that bleares mine eyes, is faigned faith profest,
The second trappe, is grating talke, that gripes eche strangers brest.
The third deceit, is greeting woordes, with colours painted out,
Which biddes suspect to feare no smart, nor dread no dangerous dout.
The fourth and last, is long repaire, which creepes in freendships lap:
And dayly hauntes, that vnder trust, deuiseth many a trap.
Lo how false freendes, can frame a fetch, to winne the wil with wyles,
To sauce their sleightes with sugred sops, & shadowe harme wt smiles.
To serue their lustes, are sundry sortes, by practise diuers kindes,
Some carries honnie in their mouthes, and venime in their mindes,
Mee thinkes the stones within the streetes, should crie out in this case,
And euery one that doth them meete, should shunne their double face.

Finis. D. S.

---

[26.] A Lady forsaken, complayneth.

IF pleasures be in painefulnesse? in pleasures dooth my body rest,
If ioyes accorde with carefulnesse? a ioyfull hart is in my brest:
If prison strong be libertie? in libertie long haue I been,
If ioyes accord with miserie? who can compare a lyfe to myne.
Who can vnbind that is sore bound? who can make free yt is sore thrall
Or how can any meanes be found? to comfort such a wretch withall?
None can, but he yt hath my hart, conuert my paines to comfort then,
Since first in bondage I became, most like a bondman haue I beene:
Since first in bodnage I became, my woord and deede was euer such,
That neuer once he could me blame, except from louing him too much.
Which I can iudge no iust offence, nor cause that I deserued disdayne,
Except he meane through false pretence, through forged loue to make a traine
Nay nay alas, my fained thoughts my frended & my fained ruth
My pleasures past my present plaints, shew wel I meane but to much truth:
But since I can not him attaine, against my wil I let him goe,
And lest he glorie at my paine, I wyl attempt to cloke my woe.
Youth, learne by me, but doo not proue, for I haue proued to my paine,
What greeuous greefes do grow by loue, & what it is to loue in vaine.

Finis. M .D.

---

[27.] Finding worldly ioyes but vanities, he wysheth death.

FOrlorne in filthy froward fate, wherein a thousand cares I finde,
By whom I doo lament my state, annoide with fond afflicted mind:
    A wretche in woe, and dare not crie,
    I liue, and yet I wishe to dye.
The day in dole, that seemeth long, I pas with sighes & heauy cheere,
And with these eyes I vewe the wrong, that I sustaine by louing here:
     Where my mishappes as rife doo dwell,
    As plagues within the pit of hell.
A wailing wight I walke alone, in desart dennes there to complaine,
Among the sauage sort to mone, I flee my frends where they remaine:
    And pleasure take to shun the sight,
    Where erst I felt my cheefe delight.
A captiue clapt in chaynes of care, lapt in the lawes of lethall loue,
My fleshe & bones consumed bare, with crauling greefes ful strange to proue:
    Though hap dooth bidde me hope at least,
    Whiles grasse dooth growe, yet starues the beast.
A seeged fort with forraine force, for want of ayde, must yeelde at last,
So must my weeried pined corse, submit it selfe to bitter tast:
    Of crauling care, that carkes my brest,
    Tyll hop or death, shall breede my rest.

Finis. F. M.

---

[28.] Hauing marryed a woorthy Lady,
      and taken away by death, he com-
playneth his mishap.

IN youth when I at large did leade, mu life in lustie libertie,
When heuy thoughtes no one did spreade, to let my pleasant fantasie
    No fortune seemd, so hard could fall,
    This freedome then, that might make thrall.
And twentie yeres I skarse had spent, when to make ful my happy fate,
Both treasures great were on me cast, with landes and titles of estate:
    So as more blest then I stoode than,
    Eke as me thought was neuer man,
For of Dame Fortune who is he, coulde more desyre by iust request,
The health, with wealth, and libertie, al which at once I thus possest:
    But maskyng in this ioly ioy,
    A soden syght, prooud al a toy.
For passyng on these merie dayes, with new deuice of pleasures great,
And now & then to viewe the rayes, of beauties workes with cunnyng fret:
    In heauenly hewes, al which as one,
    I oft behelde, but bounde to none.
And one day rowlyng thus my eyes, vpon these blessed wyghts at ease,
Among the rest one dyd I see, who strayght my wandryng lookes dyd seease:
    And stayed them firme, but suche a syght,
    Of beautie yet sawe neuer wyght.
What shal I seke to praise it more, where tongs can not praise ye same,
But to be short to louers lore, I strayght my sense al dyd frame:
    And were it wyt, or were it chaunce,
    I wonne the Garlande in this daunce.
And thus wher I before had thought, no hap my fortune might encrease,
A double blis this chance forth brought, so did my ladies loue me plese:
    Her fayth so firme, and constant suche,
    As neuer hart, can prayse too muche.
But now with torments strange I tast, ye fickle stay of fortunes whele,
And where she raysde from height to cast, with greater force, of greefe to feele:
    For from this hap of soden frowne,
    Of Princes face she threwe me downe.
And thus exchange now hath it made, my libertie a thing most deare,
In hateful prison for to fade, where sundred from my louing feare:
    My wealth, and health, standes at like stay,
    Obscurely to consume away.
And last when humaine force was none, could part our loue wherin we liued,
My ladyes life alas is gone, most cruel death hath it bereued:
    Whose vertues, her, to God, hath wonne,
    And leaft me here, a man vndone.

Finis. F. G.

---

[29.] A woorthy ditte, song before the Queenes
Maiestie at Bristowe.                        

MIstrust not troth, that truely meanes, for euery ielous freke,
In steade of wrong, condemne not right, no hidden wrath to wreke:
Looke on the light of faultlesse life, how bright her vertues shine,
And measure out her steppes eche one, by leuel and by line.

Deeme eche desert by vpright gesse, whereby your prayse shal liue,
If malice would be match with might, let hate no iudgement geue:
Enforse no feare with wresting wittes, in quiet conscience brest,
Lend not your eares to busie tongues, which breedeth much vnrest.

In doubtfull driftes wade not to farre, it weeries but the mind,
Seeke not to search the secret harts, whose thoughtes are hard to find:
Auoide from you those hatefull heads, that helpes to heape mishapp,
Be slowe to heare the flatterers voyce, which creepeth in your lapp.

Embrace their loue that wills you good, and sport not at their praise,
Trust not too much vnto your selfe, for feeble are your staies:
Howe can your seate be setled fast, or stand on stedfast ground,
So propped vp with hollowe hartes, whose suertie is vnsound.

Geue faith to those that feare for loue, and not that loue for feare,
Regard not them that force compels, to please you euery where:
All this well waide and borne away, shall stablishe long your state,
Continually with perfect peace, in spite of puffing hate.

Finis. D. S.