Henry Howard: Verses about Woman

WRAPT in my careless cloak, as I walk to and fro,
I see how love can shew what force there reigneth in his bow :
And how he shooteth eke a hardy heart to wound ;
And where he glanceth by again, that little hurt is found.
For seldom is it seen he woundeth hearts alike ;
The one may rage, when t' other's love is often far to seek.
All this I see, with more ; and wonder thinketh me
How he can strike the one so sore, and leave the other free.
I see that wounded wight that suff'reth all this wrong,
How he is fed with yeas and nays, and liveth all too long.
In silence though I keep such secrets to myself,
Yet do I see how she sometime doth yield a look by stealth,
As though it seem'd ; ' I wis, I will not lose thee so: '
When in her heart so sweet a thought did never truly grow.
Then say I thus : ' Alas ! that man is far from bliss,
That doth receive for his relief none other gain but this.'
And she that feeds him so, I feel and find it plain,
Is but to glory in her power, that over such can reign.
Nor are such graces spent, but when she thinks that he,
A wearied man, is fully bent such fancies to let flee.
Then to retain him still, she wrasteth new her grace,
And smileth, lo ! as though she would forthwith the
man embrace.
But when the proof is made, to try such looks withal,
He findeth then the place all void, and freighted full of gall.
Lord ! what abuse is this ; who can such women praise ?
That for their glory do devise to use such crafty ways.
I that among the rest do sit and mark the row,
Find that in her is greater craft, than is in twenty mo' :
Whose tender years, alas ! with wiles so well are sped,
What will she do when hoary hairs are powder'd in her head ?

GIRT in my guiltless gown, as I sit here and sow,
I see that things are not in deed, as to the outward show.
And who so list to look and note things somewhat near,
Shall find where plainness seems to haunt, nothing but craft appear.
For with indifferent eyes, myself can well discern,
How some to guide a ship in storms stick not 2 to take the stern ;
Whose skill and courage tried3 in calm to steer a barge,
They would soon shew, you should foresee, 4 it were too great a charge.
And some I see again sit still and say but small,
That can5 do ten times more than they that say they can do all.
Whose goodly gifts are such, the more they understand,
The more they seek to learn and know, and take less charge in hand.
And to declare more plain, the time flits not so fast,
But I can bear right 6 well in mind the song now sung, and past ;
The author whereof came, wrapt in a crafty cloak,
In 7 will to force a flaming fire where he could raise no smoke.
If power and will had met,8as it appeareth plain,
The 9 truth nor right had ta'en no place ; their virtues had been vain.
So that you may perceive, and I may safely see,
The innocent that guiltless is, condemned should have be.
Much like untruth to this the story doth declare,
Where the Elders laid to Susan's charge meet matter to compare.
They did her both accuse, and eke condemn her too,
And yet no reason, right, nor truth, did lead them so to do !
And she thus judg'd to die, toward her death went forth,
Fraughted with faith, a patient pace, taking her wrong in worth.
But he that doth defend all those that in him trust,
Did raise a child for her defence to shield her from th' unjust.
And Daniel chosen was then of this wrong to weet,
How, in what place, and eke with whom, she did this crime commit.
He caused the Elders part the one from th' other's sight,
And did examine one by one, and charg'd them both say right.
' Under a mulberry tree it was ;' first said the one.
The next named a pomegranate tree, whereby the truth was known.
Then Susan was discharg'd, and they condemn'd to die,
As right requir'd, and they deserv'd, that fram'd so foul a lie.
And He that her preserv'd, and lett them of their lust,
Hath me defended hitherto, and will do still I trust.