Richard Barnfield

“ Vertue is loathde of fooles, lovde of the wise.
O faire boy, trust not to thy beauties wings,
They cannot carry thee above the sunne:
Beauty and wealth are transitory things,
For all must ende that ever was begunne.
But Fame and Vertue never shall decay,
For Fame is toombles, Vertue lives for aye.
The snow is white, and yet the pepper 's blacke,
The one is bought, the other is contemned:
Pibbles we have, but store of jeat we lacke,
So white comparde to blacke is much condemned.
We doo not praise the swanne because shees white,
But for she doth in musique much delite. ”

“ Delight the tooth with taste, and breed good blud.
Innumerable be the kindes, if I could name them,
But I a shepheard and no fisher am:
Little it skils whether I praise or blame them,
I onely meddle with my ew and lamb:
Yet this I say that blacke the better is,
In birds, beasts, frute, stones, flowres, herbs, mettals, fish.
And last of all, in blacke there doth appeare
Such qualities as not in yvorie;
Black cannot blush for shame, looke pale for feare,
Scorning to weare another livorie.
Blacke is the badge of sober modestie,
The wonted weare of ancient gravetie. ”

“ The mickle pleasure and the little paine
That ever doth awayte the shepheards boy:
His hart is never troubled with annoy;
He is a king, for he commands his sheepe;
He knowes no woe, for he doth seldome weepe.
He is a courtier, for he courts his love ”

“ Scarce had the morning starre hid from the light
Heavens crimson canopie with stars bespangled,
But I began to rue th' unhappy sight
Of that faire boy that had my hart intangled;
Cursing the time, the place, the sense, the sin;
I came, I saw, I viewd, I slipped in.
If it be sinne to love a sweet-fac'd boy,
Whose amber locks trust up in golden tramels
Dangle adowne his lovely cheekes with joy,
When pearle and flowers his faire haire enamels;
If it be sinne to love a lovely lad,
Oh then sinne I, for whom my soule is sad. ”

“ Can no remorce nor pittie move thy minde?
Is mercie in the heavens so hard to finde?
Oh, then it is no mervaile that on earth
Of kinde remorce there is so great a dearth.
[Pg 43] How happie were a harmles shepheards life,
If he had never knowen what love did meane;
But now fond Love in every place is rife,
Staining the purest soule with spots uncleane,
Making thicke purses thin, fat bodies leane.
Love is a fiend, a fire, a heaven, a hell,
Where pleasure, paine, and sad repentance dwell!
There are so manie Danaes now a dayes,
That love for lucre, paine for gaine is sold ”

“ Whose mirth's my health, whose griefe's my harts annoying:
Thy bane my bale, thy blisse my blessednes,
Thy ill my hell, thy weale my welfare is.
Thus doo I honour thee that love thee so,
And love thee so, that so doo honour thee
Much more than anie mortall man doth know,
Or can discerne by love or jealozie:
But if that thou disdainst my loving ever,
Oh happie I, if I had loved never!
FINIS.
Plus fellis quam mellis amor. ”

“ Of all the kindes of common countrey life,
Methinkes a shepheards life is most content;
His state is quiet peace, devoyd of strife;
His thoughts are pure from all impure intent,
His pleasures rate sits at an easie rent;
He beares no mallice in his harmles hart,
Malicious meaning hath in him no part.
He is not troubled with th' afflicted minde,
His cares are onely over silly sheepe;
He is not unto jealozie inclinde,
(Thrice happie man) he knowes not how to weepe;
Whilst I the treble in deepe sorrowes keepe.
I cannot keepe the meane; for why (alas)
Griefes have no meane, though I for meane doe passe. ”

“ Take not a flattring woman to thy wife,
A shameles creature, full of wanton words,
(Whose bad, thy good, whose lust will end thy life,
Cutting thy hart with sharpe two edged knife) :
Cast not thy minde on her whose lookes allure,
But she that shines in truth and vertue pure.
Praise not thyselfe, let other men commend thee ”

“ A shepheard loves no ill, but onely thee;
He hath no care, but onely by thy causing:
Why doost thou shoot thy cruell shafts at mee?
Give me some respite, some short time of pausing:
Still my sweet love with bitter lucke th'art sawcing:
Oh, if thou hast a minde to shew thy might,
Kill mightie kings, and not a wretched wight.
Yet, O enthraller of infranchizd harts,
At my poore hart if thou wilt needs be ayming,
Doo me this favour, show me both thy darts,
That I may chuse the best for my harts mayming,
A free consent is priviledgd from blaming. ”

“ And tell how Love behav'd himselfe abroad;
Who seeing one that mourned still in teares,
A young man groaning under Loves great load,
Thinking to ease his burden, rid his paines,
For men have griefe as long as life remaines. ”

“ Since blacke by both, and both by blacke are knowne.
[Pg 27] White is the colour of each paltry miller,
White is the ensigne of each common woman;
White is white vertues for blacke vyces piller,
White makes proud fooles inferiour unto no man:
White is the white of body, blacke of minde,
Vertue we seldome in white habit finde.
Oh, then be not so proud because th' art fayre,
Vertue is onely the ritch gift of God:
Let not selfe-pride thy vertues name impayre,
Beate not greene youth with sharpe repentance rod:
A fiend, a monster, a mishapen divel ”

“ So shall thy vowes be gracious in his sight,
So little babes are blessed in their birth:
Thinke on no worldly woe, lament thy sin,
For lesser cease, when greater griefes begin.
Sweare no vaine oathes, heare much, but little say,
Speake ill of no man, tend thine owne affaires;
[Pg 28] Bridle thy wrath, thine angrie mood delay,
So shall thy minde be seldome cloyd with cares:
Be milde and gentle in thy speech to all,
Refuse no honest gaine when it doth fall. ”

“ Her honour in her chastities declining;
Trust not her teares, for they can wantonnize,
When teares in pearle are trickling from her eyes.
If thou wilt come and dwell with me at home,
My sheepcote shall be strowed with new greene rushes:
Weele haunt the trembling prickets as they rome
About the fields, along the hauthorne bushes;
I have a pie-bald curre to hunt the hare,
So we will live with daintie forrest fare.
[Pg 12] Nay, more than this, I have a garden plot,
Wherein there wants nor hearbs, nor roots, nor flowers ”

“ My teares the marble-stones to ruth have moved;
My sad complaints the babling ecchoes tell:
And yet thou wouldst take no compassion on mee,
Scorning that crosse which love hath laid upon mee.
The hardest steele with fier doth mend his misse,
Marble is mollifyde with drops of raine;
But thou (more hard than steele or marble is) ,
Doost scorne my teares, and my true love disdaine,
Which for thy sake shall everlasting bee,
Wrote in the annalls of eternitie.
By this, the night, (with darknes over-spred) ,
Had drawne the curtaines of her cole-blacke bed ”

“ Fulfill not th' envious mans malitious minde;
Embrace thy wife, live not in lecherie;
Content thyselfe with what fates have assignde:
Be rul'd by reason, warning dangers save;
True age is reverend worship to thy grave.
Be patient in extreame adversitie,
(Mans chiefest credit growes by dooing well) .
Be not high-minded in prosperitie;
Falshood abhorre, no lying fable tell.
Give not thyselfe to sloth, (the sinke of shame,
The moath of time, the enemie to fame) . ”

“ In praise of blacke what can be better sed?
For if we doo consider of each mortall thing
That flyes in welkin, or in water swims,
How everie thing increaseth with the spring,
And how the blacker still the brighter dims:
We cannot chuse, but needs we must confesse,
Sable excels milk-white in more or lesse.
As for example, in the christall cleare
Of a sweete streame, or pleasant running river,
Where thousand formes of fishes will appeare,
Whose names to thee I cannot now deliver;
[Pg 26] The blacker still the brighter have disgrac'd,
For pleasant profit and delicious taste. ”

“ My teares, nor vowes, nor oathes, made to thy beautie:
What shall I doo but languish, die, or faint,
Since thou dost scorne my teares, and my soules duetie:
And teares contemned, vowes and oaths must faile,
And where teares cannot, nothing can prevaile.
Compare the love of faire Queene Guendolin
With mine, and thou shalt [s] ee how she doth love thee:
I love thee for thy qualities divine,
But shee doth love another swaine above thee:
I love thee for thy gifts, she for hir pleasure ”

“ Blacke spot of sinne, vylde lure of lecherie,
Injurious blame to everie fæmale creature,
Wronger of time, broker of trecherie,
Trap of greene youth, false womens witcherie,
Handmaid of pride, highway to wickednesse,
Yet pathway to repentance nere the lesse?
Thou dost entice the minde to dooing evill,
Thou setst dissention twixt the man and wife;
A saint in show, and yet indeed a devill,
Thou art the cause of everie common strife;
Thou art the life of Death, the death of Life!
Thou doost betray thyselfe to infamie,
When thou art once discerned by the eye. ”

“ Such is the faithfull hart, such is the minde,
Of him that is to vertue still inclinde.
The skilfull scholler, and brave man at armes,
First plies his booke, last fights for countries peace;
Th' one feares oblivion, th' other fresh alarmes:
His paines nere ende, his travailes never cease;
His with the day, his with the night increase:
[Pg 36] He studies how to get eternall fame,
The souldier fights to win a glorious name. ”

“ Flowers to smell, roots to eate, hearbs for the pot,
And dainty shelters when the welkin lowers:
Sweet-smelling beds of lillies, and of roses,
Which rosemary banks and lavender incloses.
There growes the gilliflowre, the mynt, the dayzie
Both red and white, the blue-veynd violet ”

“ Since he doth venter lands, and goods and all;
When he doth travell for his traffique far,
Little he knowes what fortune may befall,
Or rather, what mis-fortune happen shall:
Sometimes he splits his ship against a rocke,
Loosing his men, his goods, his wealth, his stocke.
And if he so escape with life away,
He counts himselfe a man most fortunate,
Because the waves their rigorous rage did stay,
(When being within their cruell powers of late,
[Pg 37] The seas did seeme to pittie his estate) . ”

“ Boast not thyselfe before th' Almighties sight,
Who knowes thy hart, and anie wicked wight.
Be not offensive to the peoples eye,
See that thy praiers harts true zeale affords,
Scorne not a man that's falne in miserie,
Esteeme no tatling tales, no babling words ”

“ His minde of griefe, his hart is full of woes.
Or when bad subjects gainst their soveraigne
(Like hollow harts) unnaturally rebell,
How carefull is he to suppresse againe
Their desperate forces, and their powers to quell
With loyall harts, till all againe be well.
When (being subdu'd) his care is rather more,
To keepe them under, than it was before. ”

“ And you shall see how far they doo excell;
White kine with blacke, blacke coney-skins with gray,
Kine nesh and strong, skins deare and cheape alway.
The whitest silver is not alwaies best,
Lead, tynne, and pewter are of base esteeme ”