A posie of gilloflowers eche differing from other in colour and odour, yet all sweete. By Humfrey Gifford gent.

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Title: A posie of gilloflowers eche differing from other in colour and odour, yet all sweete. By Humfrey Gifford gent.
Author: Gifford, Humphrey.
Publication: Imprinted at London :: [By Thomas Dawson] for Iohn Perin, and are to be solde at his shop in Paules Churchyard, at the signe of the Angell,; 1580.
Rights/Permissions: To the extent possible under law, the Text Creation Partnership has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to this keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above, according to the terms of the CC0 1.0 Public Domain Dedication (http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/). This waiver does not extend to any page images or other supplementary files associated with this work, which may be protected by copyright or other license restrictions. Please go to http://www.textcreationpartnership.org/ for more information.
Subject terms: French literature -- Translations into English -- Early works to 1800.; Italian literature -- Translations into English -- Early works to 1800.; English poetry -- Early modern, 1500-1700 -- Early works to 1800.
Cite this Item: "A posie of gilloflowers eche differing from other in colour and odour, yet all sweete. By Humfrey Gifford gent." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A01740.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 3, 2024.

Pages

Somewhat made of nothing, at a Gentlewomans request

YE gladly would haue me to make you some toy,
And yet will not tel me wherof I should write:
The strangenes of this doth bréed me anoy,
And makes me to séeke what things to endite.
If I should write rashly what comes in my braine,
It might be such matter as likes you not best,
And rather I would great sorow sustayne,
Then not to fulfill your lawfull request.
Two dangers most doubtful oppresse me alike,
Ne am I resolued to which I might yéelde,
Wherfore by perforce I am foretd to séeke,
This slender deuice to serue for my shield.
Since nothing yée geue me to busie my brayne,
Nothing but your nothing of me can yée craue.
Wherfore now receiue your nothing agayne,
Of nothing, but nothing, what els would yée haue.