Englands Parnassus: or the choysest flowers of our moderne poets, with their poeticall comparisons Descriptions of bewties, personages, castles, pallaces, mountaines, groues, seas, springs, riuers, &c. Whereunto are annexed other various discourses, both pleasaunt and profitable.
About this Item
Title
Englands Parnassus: or the choysest flowers of our moderne poets, with their poeticall comparisons Descriptions of bewties, personages, castles, pallaces, mountaines, groues, seas, springs, riuers, &c. Whereunto are annexed other various discourses, both pleasaunt and profitable.
Author
Albott, Robert, fl. 1600.
Publication
Imprinted at London :: For N. L[ing,] C. B[urby] and T. H[ayes],
1600.
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Subject terms
English poetry -- Early modern, 1500-1700.
Link to this Item
http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A16884.0001.001
Cite this Item
"Englands Parnassus: or the choysest flowers of our moderne poets, with their poeticall comparisons Descriptions of bewties, personages, castles, pallaces, mountaines, groues, seas, springs, riuers, &c. Whereunto are annexed other various discourses, both pleasaunt and profitable." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A16884.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 8, 2024.
The Truth doth doth dwell within the holy tables,Of Gods liue word, not in our wanton braine,Which dayly coyning some strange error vaine,For gold takes lead, for truth electeth Fables.I. Siluester.
Truth is no harauld, nor no so sophist sure,She noteth not mens names, their sheelds or crests,Though shee compare them vnto birds and beasts,But whom shee doth fore-shew shall raigne by force,Shee tearmes a woolfe, a dragon, or a beare,A wilfull Prince, a raignelesse raging horse,A boare, a lion, a coward much in feare,A hare or hart, a craftie pricked eare,A lecherous, a bull, a goate, a foale,An vnderminer, a mould-warpe, or a moale.M. of M.
— Tried truthDoth best be seeme a simple naked tale,Ne needes to bee with paynted processe prickt,That in her selfe hath no diuersitie,But alwayes shewes one vndisguised face,VVhere deepe deceit and lies must seeke her shade,And wrappe their words in guilefull eloquence,As euer fraught with contrarietie.G. Gascoigne.
The truth hath certaine bounds, but falshood none.S. Daniell.
— The naked truth is a well-clothed lie,A nimble quicke pale meunts to dignitie