A proper newe ballad sheweing that Philosophers
Learnynges, are full of good warnynges. And songe to the tune of my Lorde
Marques Galyarde? or the firste traces of Que passa.
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PHilosophers learnings, are ful of good warnigs,
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in memorye yet left, to scoole us,
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So be ther contayned, in Poietries fained
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great Documentes, to rate and rule us,
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As well for continuance, of life helth and substance,
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whose vanities the world requireth,
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As for the derection of life by correction
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from lyberties that lust desireth.
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Menander being asked what life was, he answered,
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a miserie, that never ceaseth
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Tormentig minds worldly, for goods goton hardly
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with contraries as time increaseth,
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Wherin is no surance of hope nor induraunce
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but Jeoberdies as fortune sendyth,
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Now sicklie now helthie now poorelie now welthy,
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with casualties as life contendith.
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Of Child thus reed we, whose councel most need we
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no memorye ought more to move us,
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Then for to know throwly, ourselves & our dewty,
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to notifie what doth behove us,
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And as we seeme faultie, rejecte folyes noughtie
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with practesinge allwaies to shone them,
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So may we triumphig, geve praise to ech good thig,
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Recomfortinge that we have done them:
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Excesse that delighteth as Plutarche well writeth
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in greedines that life requireth,
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In surfeitinge disshes ill workinge ill wishes
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suche filthines as fleshe desyrethe,
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Withdraw, wyth their pleasurs, dame natures dew measures,
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whose governaunce is so defaced,
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What man can dispose them, when lust overthrows them:
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to temperaunce, that should be placed.
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Periander of livinge good counsell once gevinge,
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said merilie looke well within thee,
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If consience accuse thee, ill rest will abbuse thee
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no libertie hath leave to win thee,
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Kepe concience then clearly, that life may live chearly
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as Socrates doth wiselie will thee,
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No corzye shall greeve thee, sound sleepes shall relive thee
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Unquietnes, can no waye spill thee.
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If fortune displease us, whose wrackes may disease us,
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Let Sophacles his doctrine skoole us,
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Who writes that no suretie, on earth getteth victrye
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But pacience in paines to rule us,
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In suche pointes presisely good counsel most wisely,
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Exuperate blinde fortunes scourges,
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As the Marriner steareth, the Ship when he feareth
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The violence of salt Sea sourges.
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Ten thousand and ten to, of thease & like men to,
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Lyke Documentes have left behinde them,
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Methinks that these pagons, may counsel good Christians,
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With diligence to heare and mind them,
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Sith life hath no suertie, nor longe time of puertie
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Nor accedence that can prevaile us,
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Let wisdome now win us, to plant vertue in us,
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With penitence eare life doth faile us.
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