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The thred of noble
And
And then, the goulden pen, in case of sables cladde,
Was lock'd in chiste of Ebonie, and to
But, as all times do chaunge, so passions haue their space;
And cloudie skies at lengthe are clear'd, with
For, when that barren verse made
Whome mightie
On whome, did fortune frendlie smile, and nature most did loue.
And then, behoulde, the pen was by
Wherewith, hee also gaue to him, the gifte for to inuente.
That, when hee first began, his vayne in verse to showe,
More sweete then honie, was the stile, that from his penne did flowe.
Wherewith, in youthe hee vs'd to bannishe idle fittes;
That nowe, his workes of endlesse fame, delighte the worthie wittes.
What volumes hath hee writte, that rest among his frendes,
Which needes no other praise at all, eche worke it selfe comendes.
So, that hee famous liues, at home, and farre, and neare;
For those that liue in other landes, of
And suche as
If that they haue not seene his workes, they doe so farre excell.
Wherefore, for to extoll his name in what I might,
This
Who, did the same refuse, as not his proper due:
And at the first, his sentence was, it did belong to you.
Wherefore, lo, fame with trompe, that mountes vnto the skye:
And, farre aboue the highest spire, from pole, to pole doth flye.
Heere houereth at your will, with pen adorn'd with baies:
Which for you bothe, shee hath prepar'd, vnto your endlesse praise.
The laurell leafe for you, for him, the goulden pen;
The honours that the
Wherefore, proceede I praye, vnto your lasting fame;
For writinges last when wee bee gonne, and doe preserue our name.
And whilst wee tarrye heere, no treasure can procure,
Two thousand yeares, and more,
And yet, the same doth still remayne, and keepes his former looke.
Yet, both begonne since he was borne, thus time doth turne the wheele.
Yea, though some Monarche greate some worke should take in hand,
Of marble, or of Adamant, that manie worldes shoulde stande,
Yet, should one only man, with labour of the braine,
Bequeathe the world a monument, that longer shoulde remaine,
And when that marble waules, with force of time should waste;
It should indure from age, to age, and yet no age should taste.
Oh happie you therefore, who spend your blessed daies
In seruing
And daily doe proceede, with trauaile of the minde,
Which is the cheefest thinge, the greatest Prince can haue,
For, fame doth triumphe ouer deathe, when corpes are clos'd in graue.
Euen so, your worthie workes, when you in peace shall sleepe,
Shall make reporte of your desertes, and
Whome, I doe reuerence still, as one of
And praye the
that wrat the booke
of
nettes
Knighte.
Epist. 1. ad Au-
gustum.
Romam conditam,
sed natus ante,
Gell.
Sed
qui ante
tempore Vespasiani
Imperatoris vixit:
De
lib. 7. ca. 16. Natur.
Histor. sic scribit:
Iam verò antè annos
propè mille, vates ille
&c. Et
Nepos
nicorum antè Ro-
mam,
vixisse scribit.
De Pyramidum ae-
tate, incertum,
Natural. hist. lib. 36.
cap. 12. tamen quas-
dam post
conditas, probabile.
De his,