my farewell to my fond desires. I know Momus will look at it narrowly, and say there is too little cloth; Zoilus with his squint eyes will find fault with the shape, so shall I be bitten both for matter and method.. Well, I care not though they be crabbed, if I find other Gentlemen courteous: let an ass strike me, I will never lift my heel; and if Diogenes be cynical, I will shake off his frumps with Aristippus. Because that Gentlemen have past over works with silence, and have rid me without a spur, I have (like blind Bayard) plodded forward, and set forth many Pamphlets full of much Love, and little Scholarism: well though Hipanchian could not warble like Orpheus, yet he could pipe, and though Ennius wrote a rough style, yet he was a Poet: the flint is a stone as well as the diamond, and I may term myself a writer, though an unskilfull inditer. What? Every one dips not his finger with Homer in the bason, nor all mens' works cannot be excellent. Howsoever, I have pleased some, and so I pass it over. But henceforth I mean to offend few for as this is the first of my reformed passions, so this is the last of my trifling Pamphlets: so farewell. ROBERT GREENE." ALPHABETICAL INDEX OF FIRST LINES. Alas! how wander I amidst these woods, 57 Beauty, alas! where wast thou born, 9 Cease now, Delight! give Sorrow leave to speak;98 Fair crystal eye, remain still fierce and cruel! 52 Good Muse, rock me a-sleep, 72 Hadst thou been born whereas perpetual cold, 59 If it be true that heaven's eternal course, 58 If, warned once, the Ethnics thus repent, 6 I muse to see the modern wanton Muse, 51 It was near a thicky shade, 109 Like Hermit poor, in pensive place obscure, 37 My sons, behold what portion I do give! 65 O heavenly God, O Father dear, 14 O Lord my God, I wandered have, 105 Say, Shepherd's Boy, what makes thee greet so sore? 41 Say, dainty Dames, shall we go play, 97 Say that I should say, I love ye? 81 Sweet-heart, arise! why do you sleep, 96 Tempe, the grove, where dark Hecate doth keep her abiding; 116 The Lord my pastor is; he tends me heedlfuly;25 These Psalms which from their native sense exil'd, 49 The silent shade had shadowed every tree, 122 Thou art not fair, for all thy red and white, 36 Thou, God, that rul'st and reign'st in light, 106 Thou shalt not love me; neither shall those eyes, 35 Thrice toss those oaken ashes in the air; 36 What pleasure have great princes, 103 When tender ewes, brought home with evening sun, 66 Where servants against masters do rebel, 6 Where whoredom reigns, there murder follows fast, 9 Whither so fast? See how the kindly flowers, 99 Who life doth loath, and longs Death to behold, 20 Woe to the trains of women's foolish lust, 7 End of the First Volume. Printed by Johnson and Warwick, |