A worthy Mirrour, wherein you may Marke,
An excellent discourse of a breeding Larke.
To the tune of new Rogero.
By reading whereof, perceive well you may,
What trust is in friends, or in kinsefolke to stay.
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A Larke sometimes did breed,
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within a field of Corne:
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And had increase when as the graine
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was ready to be shorne.
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She wary of the time,
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and carefull for her nest:
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Debated wisely with her selfe,
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what thing to doo were best:
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For to abide the rage,
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of cruell Reapers hand:
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She knew it was to perilous,
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with safetie for to stand.
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And to dislodge her broode,
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unable yet to flie:
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(Not knowing whether to remoove)
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great harmes might hap thereby.
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Therefore she ment to stay,
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till force constraind to fleet,
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And in the while for to provide,
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some other place as meete:
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The better to provide,
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the purpose of her minde:
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She would forthwith go seeke abroad,
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and leave her young behinde:
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But first she had them all,
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attend their mothers will:
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Which carefull was for to eschew,
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each likelihood of ill.
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This Corne is ripe (quoth she)
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w[h]erein we nestled are:
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The which (if heede prevents not harms)
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might cause our mortall care.
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Therefore to fence with skill,
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the sequell of mishaps:
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I will provide some other place,
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for feare of after clappes.
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Whilst I for this and foode,
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am flowen hence away,
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With heedfull eares attentive be,
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what commers by do say.
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Thus said, she vaunst herselfe,
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upon her longest toe:
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And mounted up into the skies,
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still singing as she flowe.
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Anon she home returnde,
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full fraught with choice of meat:
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But loe, (a suddaine change) her Byrdes
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for feare could nothing eat.
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Therewith agast she cried,
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what how? what meaneth this?
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I charge you on my blessing, tell
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what thing hath chanst amisse?
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Are these my welcomes home,
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or thanks for food I have?
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Ye wonted were with chyrping cheere,
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to gape before I gave.
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But now such quames oppresse.
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your former quiet kinde:
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That (quite transformde) dumbe mute things
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and sencelesse soule I finde.
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The prime and eldest Byrde,
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(thus checkt) began to say:
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Alas deare Dame such newes we heard,
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since you were flowen away:
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That were it not the trust,
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that we repose in you:
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Our lives were lost remedilesse,
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we know it well ynouw:
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The owner of the plot,
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came hither with his Sonne:
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And said to him, this Wheat must down,
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it is more then time it were done.
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Go get thee to my Friends,
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and bid them come to morne:
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And tell them that I crave their helpes,
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to reape a peece of Corne.
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The Larke that was the Dam,
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stood in a dumpe a while:
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And after said, his friends (quoth he)
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and then began to smile.
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Tush, friends are hard to finde,
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true friendship seeld appeares:
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A man may misse to have a friend,
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that lives olde Nestors yeares.
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True Damon and his friend,
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long ere our time were dead:
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It was in Greece, a great way hence,
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where such true love was bred:
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Our Country is too colde,
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to foster up a friend:
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Till proofe be made, each one will say,
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still yours unto the end.
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But trie in time of need,
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and all your friends are flowen.
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Such fruitlesse seed, such fickle stay,
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in faithlesse friends be sowen:
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Therefore be of good cheere,
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revive your dulled sprights:
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Expell the care, that causelesse thus,
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bereaves you of delights.
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Let not surmized feare,
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deprive your eies of sleepe:
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My selfe will be amongst you still,
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that safely shall you keepe.
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And sweare eene be the Tuft,
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that growes upon my crowne:
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If all his helpe be in his friends,
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this Corne shall not go downe.
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The young assured by her,
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that such an oth did sweare:
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Did passe the time in wonted sleepe,
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and banisht former feare:
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And when the drousie night,
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was fled from gladsome day:
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She bad them wake and looke about,
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for she must go her way.
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And said I warant you,
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these friends will not come heere:
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Yet notwithstanding, listen wel,
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and tell me what you heare.
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Anone the Farmer came,
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enraged well nigh mad:
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And sware, who so depends on friends,
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his case is worse then bad:
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I will go fetch my kinne,
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to helpe me with this geare.
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In things of greater waight then this,
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their kindred shall appeare:
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The Larkes, theyr Dam returnd,
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informed her of all:
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And how that he himselfe was gone,
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his kindred for to call.
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But when she heard of kin,
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she laughing cried amaine:
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A pin for kin, a figge for friends,
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yet kinne the worst of twaine.
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This man himselfe is poore,
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though wealthie kin he have:
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And kindred now a daies doth quaile,
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when neede compels to crave.
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No no, he shall returne,
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with ill contented minde:
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His paines shall yeeld but losse of time,
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no succour he shall finde.
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They all are so addict,
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unto theyr private gaine:
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That if ye lacke power to requite,
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your suits are all in vaine.
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My selfe am over chargde,
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with harvest ye may see:
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And nearer is my skin then shirt,
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this shall theyr answere be.
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Therefore as earst of friends,
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so say I now of kinne:
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We shall receive no hurt by them,
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nor he no profite winne:
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Yet listen once againe,
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what now his refuge is.
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For kindred shal be like to friends,
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be well assured of this:
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I must go furnish up,
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a nest I have begun.
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And will returne and bring you meat,
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as soone as it is done.
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Then up she clam the Clowds,
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with such a lustie Lay:
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That it rejoyst her yonglings hearts,
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as in theyr nest they lay:
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And much they did commend,
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theyr Mothers loftie gate.
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And thought it long till time had brought
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themselves to such estate:
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Thus whilst theyr twinckling eies,
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were roving too and fro:
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The saw whereas the Farmer came,
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who was their mortall foe.
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Who after due complaints,
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thus sayed in the end.
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I will from henceforth trust my selfe,
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and not to kin nor friend:
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Who gives me glozing wordes,
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and faile me at my need:
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May in my Pater noster be,
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but never in my Creede.
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My selfe will have it downe,
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since needs it must be so:
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For proofe hath taught me too much wit,
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to trust to any mo.
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The birds that listening lay,
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attentive to the same:
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Informde their mother of the whole,
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as soone as ere thee came:
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Ye mary then (quoth she)
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the case now altered is.
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We will no longer here abide,
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I alway feared this:
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But out she got them all,
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and trudged away apace:
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And through the corne she brought them safe
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into another place.
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God send her lucke to shun,
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both Hauke and Fowlers gin,
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And me the happe to have no neede,
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of friend, nor yet of kinne.
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