BYRD'S SONGS.

WHAT PLEASURE HAVE GREAT PRINCES.

WHAT pleasure have great princes,
More dainty to their choice,
Than herdmen wild, who, careless,
In quiet life rejoice,

And fortune's fate not fearing,

Sing sweet in summer morning?

Their dealings plain and rightful,
Are void of all deceit;
They never know how spiteful

It is to kneel and wait

On favourite presumptuous,

Whose pride is vain and sumptuous.

All day their flocks each tendeth,
At night they take their rest
More quiet than he who sendeth
His ship into the east,
Where gold and pearl are plenty,
But getting very dainty.

For lawyers and their pleading

They 'steem it not a straw,

They think that honest meaning
Is of itself a law,

Where conscience judgeth plainly;

They spend no money vainly.

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Oh, happy who thus liveth,

Not caring much for gold,
With clothing which sufficeth
To keep him from the cold;
Though poor and plain his diet,
Yet merry it is, and quiet.

IN FIELDS ABROAD.

In fields abroad, where trumpets shrill do sound,
Where glaves and shields do give and take the knocks,
Where bodies dead do overspread the ground,

And friends to foes, are common butchers' blocks,

A gallant shot, well managing his piece,
In my conceit, deserves a golden fleece.

Amid the seas, a gallant ship set out,
Wherein nor men, nor yet munition lacks,
In greatest winds that spareth not a clout,

But cuts the waves in spite of weather's wracks;
Would force a swain that comes of cowards' kind,
To change himself, and be of noble mind.

Who makes his seat a stately stamping steed,
Whose neighs and plays are princely to behold,
Whose courage stout, whose eyes are fiery red,,
Whose joints well knit, whose harness all of gold,
Doth well deserve to be no meaner thing,

Than Persian knight, whose horse made him a king.

BYRD'S SONGS.

FAREWELL, FALSE LOVE.

FAREWELL, false love, the oracle of lies,
A mortal foe, and enemy to rest;

An envious boy, from whom all cares arise;
A bastard vile, a beast with rage possess'd;
of error, a temple full of treason,

A

way

In all effects contrary unto reason.

A poison'd serpent, cover'd all with flowers,
Mother of sighs, and murtherer of repose;
A sea of sorrows, whence are drawn such showers
As moisture lends to every grief that grows;
A school of guile, a net of deep deceit,
A gilded hook that holds a poison'd bait;

A fortress foil'd, which reason did defend;
A syren song, a fever of the mind;
A maze wherein affection finds no end;

A raging cloud that runs before the wind;
A substance like the shadow of the sun;
A goal of grief for which the wisest run;

A quenchless fire, a nurse of trembling fear;
A path that leads to peril and mishap;
A true retreat of sorrow and despair;

An idle boy that sleeps in pleasure's lap;
A deep mistrust of that which certain seems;
A hope of that which reason doubtful deems.

C

13

ALL AS A SEA.

ALL as a sea the world no other is,

Ourselves are ships still tossed to and fro;
And lo, each man his love to that or this,
Is like a storm to drive the ship to go;
That thus our life in doubt of shipwreck stands,
Our will's the rock, our want of skill the sands.

Our passions be the pirates still that spoil,
And overboard cast out our reason's freight;
The mariners that day and night do toil,

Be our conceits that do on pleasure wait;
Pleasure, master, doth tyrannise the ship,
And giveth virtue secretly the nip.

The

compass

is a mind to compass all,

Both pleasure, profit, place, and fame, for nought; The winds that blow, men overweening call;

The merchandise is wit full dearly bought;
Trial the anchor cast upon experience,
For labour, life, and all ado the recompence.

WHITNEY'S EMBLEMS.

WHEN AUTUMN RIPES.

WHEN autumn ripes the fruitful fields of grain,
And Ceres doth in all her pomp appear,
The heavy ear doth break the stalk in twain,
Whereby we see this by experience clear,
Her own excess doth cause her proper spoil,
And make her corn to rot upon the soil.

So worldly wealth and great abundance, mars
That sharpness of our senses and our wits,
And oftentimes our understanding bars,

And dulls the same with many careful fits;
Then since excess procures our spoil and pain,
The mean prefer before immoderate gain.

OF FLATTERING SPEECH BEWARE.

Or flattering speech, with sugar'd words, beware; Suspect the heart whose face doth fawn and smile; With trusting these, the world is clogg'd with care,

And few there be can 'scape these vipers vile; With pleasing speech they promise and protest, When careful hearts lie hid within their breast.

The faithful wight, doth need no colours brave;

But those that trust in time his truth shall try,
Where fawning mates cannot their credit save,
Without a cloak to flatter, feign, and lie;

No foe so fell, nor yet so hard to 'scape,
As is the foe that fawns with friendly shape.

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J. H. M. The two foregoing Pieces are from "A Choice of Emblems and other Devices," &c. selected by Geffrey Whitney-1586.