Thomas Blenerhasset

Thomas Blenerhasset Poems

Do nothing muse at my deformed face,
For Nature it in perfect moulde dyd make:
And when your wits haue wayed well the case,
...

Euermore my Muse shall magnifie thy name
Most gracious, most right renowned dame
Nowe that I knowe thy due deserued fame:
...

Mens due desertes ech Reader may recite,
For men of men doo make a goodly show,
But womens workes can neuer come to light,
...

The Preface.

A poore Pilgrime who seekes the circle rounde
Of all the worlde to finde his heartes desire,
...

Sith men be borne by Nature naked all,
With their estates why are not men content?
Why doo they deeme the want of wealth a thral?
...

You hellish hagges of Limbo Lake belowe,
Which dayly doo my cursed corps torment,
Come forth, come forth, come forth, (I say) and shewe
...

On staylesse top of Honours high renowne,
With busye brayne to builde a bower there,
Is doune to fall at Fortunes froward frowne,
...

Two partes in one a Heardman here must play,
My tale must tende eche princes lyfe to mende,
And this my talke most playnely must displaye,
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We leade our liues by fancies fonde delight,
For kingdomes some doo busy much theyr brayne,
But Cupids curse that wretched litle wight,
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My wrinckled cheeks bedeawde with drops of dole
My visage pale, my wan and withered face,
Do wel declare how I haue runne my race.
...

You mourning Muses al, where euer you remayne,
Assist my sobbing soule this drierye tale to tell:
You furious Furies fearce of Lymbo Lake belowe,
Helpe to vnlade my brest of al the bale it beares:
...

How Egelrede for his wickednesse was diuerslye distressed by the Danes, and lastly dyed for sorrow, seeing him selfe not able to deale with Canutus.
...

By quiet peace of Ianus ioylitie,
Their happy hauens with forewinds forst some haue,
By wrackful warres of Mars his crueltie,
...

The Best Poem Of Thomas Blenerhasset

The Lyfe Of Ladye Ebbe.

Howe Lady Ebbe dyd flea her nose, and vpper lippe away, to saue her Virginitie.

Do nothing muse at my deformed face,
For Nature it in perfect moulde dyd make:
And when your wits haue wayed well the case,
You wyll commende me much for Vertues sake.
With these my handes which from my face dyd take
Mine ouer lippe, and eke my seemely Nose,
So to auoyde the rage of all my foes.

For I by byrth a Princes daughter borne,
An Abbiesse by my profession,
Of which estate I neuer thought it scorne,
It greatly did delight me to be one,
Which might erect diuine Religion.
At Collingam I tooke this charge in hand,
And fiftie more of chaste Dianaes bande,

Al Ladies borne by birth of high degree,
Which there did vowe with me their liues to leade,
And to auoyd carnal fragilitie,
We al did vowe as you ryght wel may reade,
With single liues to liue in feare and dreade
Of God our Lorde, so to refrayne the vice
Of fleshly luste, which doth to sinne intice.

Then did the Danes the Saxon state inuade,
And they who did the Brittayne state destroy,
To sue for grace were glad and wel apayd,
So strangely did the Danes vs then annoye,
That Saxons like the men of broyling Troy,
Amazde, they gazde, not knowing what was best,
So strayghtly were the Saxons then distrest.

These dreadful Danes they had no feare of God,
But sauage, they did make their lust a lawe,
Whome god did send for a reuenging rod,
To make vs Saxons liue in feare and awe
Of him, who did from seruile bondage drawe
Vs out, and made vs liue at libertie,
When as we serude with cruel slauerie.

Not much vnlike the murmuryng Israelites,
Sometyme we serude our Lorde with feare and dread,
In trouble we imployde our whole delightes,
To fast and pray: but when we quiet were,
We restlesse led our liues, all voyde of care,
Forgetting him who did in ech distresse,
With helping hande vs blesse with good successe.

See here the fruit of health and good successe,
It maketh man both proude and insolent:
In health we hate the god who hath vs blest,
Trouble doth make vs mortall men repent
Our former faultes: in sickenesse we be bent
To fast and pray, and in aduersitye,
To pray to god, is mans felicitye.

And for this fault abusing this our blesse,
The Danes with ruth our realme did ouerrunne,
Their wrath inwrapte vs all in wretchednesse,
There was no sinne from which those men did shunne.
By them the common weale was quite vndonne,
They did destroy the state of euery Towne,
They churches burnt, they pluckt the Abbies downe.

Yet not content, vs Nunnes they did annoy,
O cruel deede, our beltes they did vnbynde,
With rapine they dyd rauishe and destroy,
Deflowring al that euer they could finde.
I seeing then what sorrow was assignde
To me and mine, my vowed virgines I
Did call, then thus I spake with weeping eye.

Alas alas my louing ladies all,
These harde mishappes doo presse vs too to neare,
What shall we do, how may we scape the thrall
Which hath destroyde the Nunneries euery where?
Alas, my feeble fleshe doth quake for feare,
Alas, howe shall we scape their cruelties,
Which thus be plast amidst extremities?

For if we do their hatefull heastes deny,
Then dreadfull death shall presently insue:
And if we graunt vnto their villany,
Our sinfull soules in hell that deed shall rue.
Beleeue me then my Ladies, this is true,
Much better twer for vs to dye, with fame,
Then long to liue, with euerlasting shame.

And for because the faces forme doth moue
With beauties beames and comly countenaunce,
The minde of man to lust and lawlesse loue,
I haue deuizde, my honour to aduaunce,
With face deformde to trye my hard mischaunce.
For these my handes from this my face shall rippe
Euen with this knife, my Nose and ouerlippe.

They which will flye reprochfull infamye,
To do the like will them beseeme the best,
You shal preserue your vowde virginitie
Therby, and liue perhappes with quiet rest,
My daughters deare, geue eare vnto my hest.
Wherwith, with Rasors sharpe I first, then they,
Eche one her Nose, and lippe did flea away.

Whilste thus we liud deformde to outwarde showe,
Yet vessels garnisht gaye before gods sight,
The Danes did vs inuade, who strayght did knowe
Our feate, them to defeate of their delight:
For which they wrackt on vs their wicked spight.
With fiery flames they burnt our Nunnery,
And vs therein: O wretched crueltie.

The eare of man the like hath neuer hearde,
No penne, nor tounge the like hath euer tolde,
Had euer man a hart that was so harde,
That with his yron brest durst be so bolde,
To do the like agaynst the Femine kinde?
Not on in fayth that euer I coulde heare,
But these all voyde of mercye, loue, and feare.

Thus we content to leaue this present life,
In hope to haue hereafters better blesse,
Were brent and broyld, and so did stint the strife
Which might haue made vs liue in wretchednesse:
We gaynde therby a heauenly happinesse.
Which happinesse they doubtlesse shall obtayne,
Which do from sinne and wickednesse abstayne.

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