Nicholas Bacon
Nicholas Bacon Poems
CHORVS
O gratyous Lorde, ohe sauyor dere,
Our onelye hope and all our chere,
Our presente ayde in euerye woe,
...
If the iuste mann seaven tymes eache daye
Ohe Lorde dothe fall, what shall I saye?
Of all iniuste moste sinfull manne
...
Nothinge in earthe soe good I fynde
As in a mann a contented mynde.
Fewe thinges with this doe sarue alone,
...
Whie woulde the Knighte a Barron bee?
Whie woulde the Barron an Earles degree?
...
What is the cause the gredye manne
With care to gett waxethe pale and wanne?
Haueinge enoughe whye craues he more?
...
What bringethe ruste to Iron smothe?
Whye stynkethe water that dothe not moue?
Whye dothe the grounde that fertell was
...
The marchantes wishe the Lawyers trayne
For hasarde smale and certeine gayne.
The Lawyer dulled with sute and strife
...
To man lewde luste bringethe theis ylles,
Councell it damnes, his mynde it kylles,
Vertue it voydes, manners it marres,
...
As causer of the smoke is the kindeler of the fyer,
Euen soe is wanton talke the cause of yll desyer:
...
Lorde for my slepe and reste this nighte
And for this grace preserueinge mee
In bodye sounde in mynde vprighte,
...
Lorde for thy grace geven me this daye
With humble thankes I honor thee,
And for my synnes I pardon praye
...
The righteste course in lyfe to keepe
Is not to presse alwayes to runne
With sayles vppe hoyste in the mayne deepe,
...
With foode enoughe and good alsoe
ffamyne and Rotte I kepe them froe.
...
The gredye woulfe from the poore sheepe
By godds worde I am bounde to keepe.
...
Bothe sheepe and sheparde to aduerte
As cheife shepreve I thinke my parte.
...
The suereste state and beste degree
Is to possesse mediocritye.
By proofe we finde in everye storme
The hier tree the sorer torne:
...
Calleinge to mynde my wyfe moste dere
Howe ofte you have in sorrowes sadde
With wordes full wyse and pleasante chere
...
Once in stormes greate
A shippe was beate
Soe sore with tempestes rage
That naughte was able
...
In wanton ryme a greate grave matter
A gloryous manne shewed to his frende:
Whoe sayde strayte beinge lothe to flatter,
...
A perte Marchante seekeinge to lowte
A seelye ffryer in a greate rowte
Sayde: mas ffryer I marvell muche
Whie to the Crosse you doe soe crowche
...
Nicholas Bacon Biography
Sir Nicholas Bacon (28 December 1510 – 20 February 1579) was an English politician during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I of England, notable as Lord Keeper of the Great Seal. He was the father of the philosopher and statesman Sir Francis Bacon.)
The Best Poem Of Nicholas Bacon
A Carolle.
CHORVS
O gratyous Lorde, ohe sauyor dere,
Our onelye hope and all our chere,
Our presente ayde in euerye woe,
Our hole defence agaynste eache foe,
With handes heued vppe and with bowed knee,
With harte deuoute yelde wee to thee
Honor and thankes glorye and prayse
Bothe here and hence nowe and alwayes.
All that be here singe and reioyse,
Prayse and geue thankes with worde and thoughte,
With strynge well strayned, with cherefull voyce,
With tune well tymed as musicke oughte,
To him that all hathe wroughte and boughte,
Our protector our kinge our lorde,
Prayse we thus him with one accorde.
O gratyous &c.
Fyrste not beinge thou madeste vs bee,
Then our beinge Lorde thou dideste blysse
With witte with shape with soueranytye
Passeinge the reste that here made is,
Placeinge vs then from synne cleane free
In ioye eterne: wherefore synge wee.
O gratyous &c.
O vnkynde manne O stonye harte,
Beinge thus bleste what furye fell
Coulde moue thy mynde fro god to parte,
Leaueinge this blysse seekeinge for hell,
Whiche for offence happed to Angell,
But godds mercye to thee is more
Then to Angell: synge thus therefore.
O gratyous &c.
Throwe seas drye shodde whoe made thee passe?
With couered cloudes whoe did thee saue?
In deserte place where noe foode was
Whoe Angells foode made thee to haue?
From the drye rocke whoe drinke thee gaue?
Seeinges god thus dothe preserue his,
With harte and voyce wee thus him blysse.
O gratyous &c.
Yet beyonde all O Lorde is this,
That thou shouldeste sende thyne onelye sonne
Eternall god from heauenlye blysse
In this vyle worlde manne to become,
Throwe manne to dye for manns ransome,
Seekeinge manns lyfe whoe soughte his deathe:
Wherefore singe wee whiles thou giueste breathe.
O gratyous &c.
For theis thye giftes and thousandes moe
Eache heauenlye goste, eache earthelye wyghte,
Eache fowle, eache fishe, eache beaste alsoe,
The Sunne, the Mone, the starres soe brighte,
All thinges vnsene, all thinges in sighte
Bothe here and hence with one accorde
Incessantelye lawde thee ohe Lorde.
O gratyous &c.
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