תמונות בעמוד
PDF
ePub

Now faye, English captaine, what woldeft thou give
To ransome thy felfe, which elfe must not live?
Come yield thy felfe quicklye, or flaine thou must bee.
Then finiled fweetlye, fair Mary Ambree.

Now captaines couragious, of valour foe bold,
Whom thinke you before you that you doe behold?
A knight, fir, of England, and captaine foe free,
Who fhortlye with us a prisoner must bee.

No captaine of England; behold in your fight.
Two brefls in my bosome, and therfore noe knight:
Noe knight, firs, of England, nor captaine you fee,
But a poor fimple may den, calld Mary Ambree.

But art thou a woman, as thou doft declare,
Whose valour hath provd foe undaunted in warre?
If England doth yield fuch brave maydens as thee,
Full well may they conquer, faire Mary Ambree!

The prince of Great Parma heard of her renowne,
Who long had advanced for Englands faire crowne;
Hee wooed her and fued her his miftrefs to bee,
And offerd rich prefents to Mary Ambree.

But this virtuous mayden despised them all,
Ile nere fell my honour for purple nor pall:
A mayden of Englande, fir, never will bee
The whore of a monarcke, quoth Mary Ambree,

[blocks in formation]

Then to her owne country fhee backe did returne,
Still holding the foes of faire England in fcorne:
Therfore English captaines of every degree
Sing forth the brave valours of Mary Ambree.

THE MURDER OF THE KING OF

SCOTS.

[ocr errors]

OE worth, woe worth thee, falfe Scotlande! For thou haft ever wrought by fleighte; The worthyeft prince that ever was borne, You hanged under a cloud by night.

The queene of France a letter wrote,
And fealed it with harte and ringe;
And bade him come Scotland within,

And shee wold marry and crowne him kinge,

To be a king is a pleafant thing,

To be a prince unto a peere:

But

you have heard, and so have I,

A man may well buy gold too deare,

When the governor of Scotland heard,
How that the worthye king was flaine;
He purfued the queen so bitterlye,

That in Scotland fhee dare not remaine.

But fhe is fledd into merry England,
And here her refidence hath tane;
And through the queene of Englands grace,
In England now shee doth remaine.

A SONNET BY Q ELIZABETH.

T

HE doubt of future foes

Exiles my present joy,

And wit me warnes to fhun such fnares,

As threaten mine annoy.

For falfhood now doth flow,

And fubject faith doth ebbe,
Which would not be if reafon rul'd,
Or wifdome wev'd the webbe.

But clowdes of toyes untried
Do cloake aspiring mindes ;
Which turn to raine of late repent,
By courfe of changed windes.

The toppe of hope fuppofed

The roote of ruthe wil be;
And fruteleffe all their graffed guiles,
As fhortly ye fhall fee.

Then dazeled eyes with pride,
Which great ambition blindes,
Shal be unfeeld by worthy wights,
Whose forefight falfhood finds.

The daughter of debate,

That eke difcord doth fowe,
Shal reape no gaine where former rule
Hath taught ftil peace to growe.

No forreine bannifht wight

Shall ancre in this port;

Our realme it brookes no strangers force

Let them elsewhere refort.

Durrufty fworde with reft

Shall firft his edge employ,

[ocr errors]

Shall quickly' poll their toppes, that fecke

Such change, and gape for joy.

THE STURDY ROCK.

T

HE sturdy rock for all his strength
By raging feas is rent in twaine:
The marble ftone is pearft at length,
With little drops of drizling rain:
The oxe doth yeeld unto the yoke,
The fteele obeyeth the hammer ftroke.

The flately flagge, that feemes so flout,
By yalping hounds at bay is fet:
The fwifteft bird, that flies about,

Is caught at length in fowlers net
The greatest fish, in deepest brooke,
Is foone deceived by fubtill hooke.

Yea man himselfe, unto whose will
All thinges are bounden to obey,
For all his wit and worthie fkill,

Doth fade at length, and fall away.
There is nothing but time doeth wafte;
The heavens, the earth confume at last.

« הקודםהמשך »