A fantasie on fifteene woordes, endyng all in one letter.

IF freendship faint or Fortune faile,
and flood forsakes to flowe,
Yet call for hope to hoise vp saile,
a gale of winde maie blowe:
When sorrowe comes and sighes encrease,
with wicked worldly woe,
Beleue the beste of badde mischaunce,
and ease thy burthen soe.
The child that neuer felt the rodde, maie out of order goe,
The horse that can no bridell bide, no pace nor traine will showe:
Tis better freend reforme thy fauts, then take rebuke of foe,
The wood yt breaks whe it should bend, will neuer make good bowe.
That hart is weake which for small greef, cosums & melts like snow,
The rose nor flowre is nere the worse, that doeth nere nettell growe:
A man maie suffer mutche in harte, though shooe doe nipp his toe,
A quiet man maie liue full long, that dwells in house with shroe.
The Faucon flies a stately gate, in spite of carraine Crowe,
Some maks a merry gladsome chere, yet feles great care ye knowe
Some haue a sadde and heauie minde, and walks as light as Doe.
Thus sutche as beare a pacient brest, doe conquere that thei craue,
And those that striu's against the stream, shall seldome pleasure haue.