A Newe yeres gift to the Erle of Ormond, giuen at Kilkennie, when the Erle of Essex was in Irelande.

AN auncient gise hath been,
this daie for diuerse drifts,
(Emong our freends to wishe good yere,)
and giue some Newe yeres gifts:
Yea of the meanest man,
the greatest Prince will take,
And none that can conceiue good will,
doe freendly gifts forsake.
And sure this custome old, in Court full long I kept,
Till close in bosome like a Snake, cold thanklesse harts were crept:
But when I sawe them swell, and looke for ritcher ware,
(Yea gape for brauer blossoms gaie, tha barrain branch could spare)
I helde my talent deere, and sette my penne a side,
As one that scornde to sowe good corne, and reape disdainfull Pride:
Perhapps some iudged streight, this was a crauyng kinde,
And eager hauke for pleasaunt praie, did houer in the winde.
I aunswere those conceits, let it be tried and founde,
That euer to the plaiers hands, did any haule rebounde:
Or euer any wight, for twentie yeres deuice,
Gaue one good tourne, or yelded thyng, of any fame or price.
Then let me beare the blame, of crauer in this cace,
O my goon Lorde, who blusheth not, before the niggards face:
To showe an emptie bagge, why all our countrey knowes,
That Carpet knights could neuer spare, the droppyng of their nose.
And Courtiars at receipt, doe lye them selu's as nere,
As connyng dogge that drawes a sute, and pouleth doen the dere:
Then this must noted be, that all the paines I tooke,
Of faithfull mynde must needes arise, and not of greedy looke.
Whiche minde awakes me now, to haules a noble wight,
With welcome home, and crie all haile, Achilles Marciall knight:
Yea mightie Mars hym self, thy countrey can recorde,
When oft from feeld thou hast retournde, a victor and a Lorde,
That lande is threfolde blest, that many sutche can showe,
That prince full saffe shall slepe in rest, that can bid sutche men goe:
To serue, when neede requires, though hate would hide the same,
Who well deseru's should well belikt, eche man ought haue his fame
Eche thing ought be esteemd, as loe the valure is.
I knowe no other name for gold, but gold, then note well this,
I florishe not with penne, to faune or flatter here:
For if I finde with baser bruite, ye doe begin this yere:
And noble nature change, and tourne to other trade,
An other kinde of nippyng verse, be sure, there shalbe made.
For vertues sake a lone, I honour you in deede,
So take the gift and waie it well, and doe these verses reede:
And where the minde is fraught, with any sparke of grace,
Redouble that, so Churchyards verse, shall honor Ormonds race.