A worthy mirror, wherein you may marke, / an excellent discourse of a breeding Larke: / By reading whereof, perceiue well you may, / what truth is in friends or in kinsfolke to stay.

<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">A worthy mirror, wherein you may marke,</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="indent"><hi rend="italic">an excellent discourse of a breeding Larke:</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">By reading whereof, perceive well you may,</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="indent"><hi rend="italic">what trust is in friends or in kinsfolke to stay.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">To the tune of Rogero.</hi></seg>

A Larke some time did breed, within a field of corne: And had increase when as the graine was ready to be shorne, She wary of the time, and carefull of her nest: Debated wisely with her selfe, what thing to do were best. For to abide the rage, of cruell reapers hand: S[he knew] it was to perillous, with safety for to stand. And to dislodge her brood, unable yet to flye: Not knowing whether to remoove, great harme might hap thereby. Therefore she meant to stay, till force constraind her fleete: And in the while for to provide, some other place as meete. The better to provide, the purpose of her minde: Shee would forthwith go seek abroad and leave her yong behinde. But first shee bad them all, attend their Mothers will: Which carefull was for to eschew, each likely-hood of ill. This Corne is ripe quoth she, wherin we nestlyd are: The which if heads prevent not harms might cause our mortall care.

Therefore to fence with skill, the sequell of mishaps: We will provide some other place, for feare of after claps. Whilst I for this and food, am flowen hence away: With heedfull eares attentive be, what commers by do say. Thus said, shee vaunst her selfe, upon her longest toe: And mounted up into the sky, still singing as shee flow. Anon shee home returnd, full fraught with choise of meate: But loe a suddaine chance, hir birds for feare could nothing eate. Therewith agast she cride, what hoe, what meaneth this: I charge you on my blessing tell, what thing hath chanst amisse. Is this the welcome home, or thankes for food I have: You wonted were with chirping cheere to gape before I gave. But now such qualmes oppresse, your former quiet kinde: That quite transformd dum mute things sencelesse soules I finde. The prime and eldest bird, thus chirpt began to say: Alas deere dame, such news we herd since you were flowne away

That were it not the trust, that we repose in you: Our lives were lost remedilesse, we know it well enough. The owner of the plot, came hither with his sonne: And said to him this Corne must down tis more then time twere done. Goe get thee to my friends, and bid them come to morne: And tell them that I crave their help to reape a peece of corne. The Larke that was the Dame, stood in a dump a while, And after said, his friends quoth she and then began to smile. Tush, friends are hard to finde, true friendship sild appeares: A man may misse to have a friend, that lives old Nestors yeares, True Damond and his friend, long ere our time were dead: It was in Greece a great way henc[e,] where such true love was bred. Our countrey is too cold, to foster by a friend: Till proofe be made each one will sa[y] still yours unto the end. But trie in time of need, and all your friends are flowne Such fruitlesse seeds, such fickle sta[y] in faithlesse friends be sowen.

<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The second part of the breeding Larke. To the same tune.</hi></seg>

THerefore be of good cheere, revive your dulled spirits: Expell the care that caus[l]es thus, bereaves you of delights: Let not surmised feare, deprive your eyes of sleepe. My selfe will be amo[n]gst you still, that safely will you keepe. And sweare even by the tufte, that growes upon my Crowne: If al his trust be in his frends, this corne shall not goe downe. The young assured by her, that such an oth did sweare: Did passe the night in wonted sleepe, and banisht former feare. And when the drousy night, was fled from gladsome day: She bad them wake and looke about for she must goe her way. And said I warrant you, his friends will not come heare: Yet not withstanding listen wel, and tell me what you heare. Anon the farmer came, inraged wel ny mad: And said who so dep[e]nds on friends, his case is worse then bad. I must go fetch my kin, to help me with this geare: In things of greater waight then this their kindred shall appeare. The Larkes their dame returnd: informed her of all: and how that he himselfe was gone: his kindred for to call. But when she heard of kin, she laughing cryd amaine: A pin for kin a figge for freends, yet kin the worst of th twaine. This man himselfe is poore, though wealthy kin he have: And kindred now a dayes doth faile, when need compells to crave. No no he shall returne, with ill contented mind: His pains shal yeeld but losse of time no comfort shall he find. They all are so adict, Unto their privat gaine: That if you lack power to requite, your suites are all in vaine. My selfe am overhargd, with harvest as you see: And nearer is my skin then shirt, thus shall their answer be.

Therfore as erst of frends, so say I now of kin: We shall receive no hurt by this, nor he no profit winne. Yet listen once againe, what now his refuge is: For kindred shall be like to friends, be wel assurd of this. I must goe furnish up, a nest I have begun: I will returne and bring you meat, as soone as I have done. Then up she came the clay, with such a lusty lay: That it rejoycd her yonglings harts as in their nest they lay. And much they did commend, their lusty mothers gate: And thought it long till time had brought themselves to such a state. Thus as their twinckling eyes, were roving to and fro: They saw whereas the farmer came who was their mortall foe. Who after due complaints, thus said he in the end: I will from henceforth trust my selfe and not to kin or frends. Who gives me glossing words, and failes me at my need: May in my pater noster be, but never in my creed. My selfe will have it done, sith it must needs be so: For proofe hath taught me so much witt to trust to any moe. The birds that listning lay, attentive to the same: Informed their mother of the whole, as soone as ere she came. Yea Marry then quoth she, the case now altred is: We will no longer heere abide, I alwaies feared this. But out she got them all, and trudgd away apace, And through the Corne she brought them al unto another place. God send her luck to scape, the hauke and foulers ginne: And me the hap to have no need, of neither friend nor kin,

Finis. Imprinted at London for J. W.