[A sweet nosgay, or pleasant posye] [contayning a hundred and ten phylosophicall flowers &c.]

About this Item

Title
[A sweet nosgay, or pleasant posye] [contayning a hundred and ten phylosophicall flowers &c.]
Author
Whitney, Isabella.
Publication
[London :: R. Jones,
1573]
Rights/Permissions

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Link to this Item
http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A15143.0001.001
Cite this Item
"[A sweet nosgay, or pleasant posye] [contayning a hundred and ten phylosophicall flowers &c.]." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A15143.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 3, 2024.

Pages

¶In answer by C. B. to IS. VV.

YOur lamentable letterred, and finding by the same: That you my skillesse counsel craue, to bring you to some frame: Suche as it is, I redy preste, Both am, and wyll, to doo my best.
¶And where as thou in sorow soust doest pyne thy selfe away: I wyth thée for to conquer care, least the bring thy decay: Those fretting fyts, that thou art in, Offends the Lord, augmenteth sin.
¶The heauy hart: and mind opprest, be neuer both reiea: And at what hower we lament, be doth be styll respect.

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Yet that for sin thou shuldst thée kyll, Wold hath thy soule and body spyll.
*But tis not altogether sinne, that makes you sorow this: It is because that Fortune she, doth frowne on you iwis: Wherfor if you my counsell lyke, Turne of your teares, and cease to lyke.
¶Impart thy woes, and geue to niée, the greatest of the same: Pluck strength thée to: and cherish thée, to modest mirth now frame: Then friends and you may worke so well, That Fortune shal your foes expell.
¶Yf euell words and other wants, haue brought thée to this woe: Remember how that Christ him selfe, on earth was euen so: Thy Friends ye haue thée knowne of long, Wil not regard thy enemies tong.
¶The vertue that hath euer béene, within thy tender brest: Which I from yeare to yeare, haue séene, in all thy deedes exprest: Doth me perswade thy enemies lye, And in that quarell would I dye.

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¶That wisedome which yu doest posses, is rare for to be founde: Thy courtesse to euery one, so greatly doth abound. That those which throwly thée do know, Wil thée defend from any foe.
*Wherfore as earth I write to thée, pluck vp that hart of thine: And make accompt for friendship, or for seruice: els of mine. I wyl not fayle for friend or foe, Thy vertues they doo bind me so.
*Thus wishing God to be your guide, and graunt you Nestors lyfe: With health and haps, so good as earst, had any maybe or wyfe. I end and rest in what he may, Your friend vnto my dyeing day.
By mée

C. B.

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