No More Learning

]

[Footnote 33: strange perversion of words. _Droorie_ in its antient
signification stood for _modesty_. ]

[Footnote 34: another. ]




LETTER TO THE DYGNE MASTRE CANYNGE.


Straunge dome ytte ys, that, yn these daies of oures,
Nete[35] butte a bare recytalle can hav place;
Nowe shapelie poesie hast loste yttes powers,
And pynant hystorie ys onlie grace;
Heie[36] pycke up wolsome weedes, ynstedde of flowers, 5
And famylies, ynstedde of wytte, theie trace;
Nowe poesie canne meete wythe ne regrate[37],
Whylste prose, & herehaughtrie[38], ryse yn estate.

Lette kynges, & rulers, whan heie gayne a throne,
Shewe whatt theyre grandsieres, & great grandsieres bore, 10
Emarschalled armes, yatte, ne before theyre owne,
Now raung'd wythe whatt yeir fadres han before;
Lette trades, & toune folck, lett syke[39] thynges alone,
Ne fyghte for sable yn a fielde of aure;
Seldomm, or never, are armes vyrtues mede, 15
Shee nillynge[40] to take myckle[41] aie dothe hede.

A man ascaunse upponn a piece maye looke,
And shake hys hedde to styrre hys rede[42] aboute;
Quod he, gyf I askaunted oere thys booke,
Schulde fynde thereyn that trouthe ys left wythoute; 20
Eke, gyf[43] ynto a vew percase[44] I tooke
The long beade-rolle of al the wrytynge route,
Asserius, Ingolphus, Torgotte, Bedde,
Thorow hem[45] al nete lyche ytte I coulde rede. --

Pardon, yee Graiebarbes[46], gyff I saie, onwise 25
Yee are, to stycke so close & bysmarelie[47]
To hystorie; you doe ytte tooe moche pryze,
Whyche amenused[48] thoughtes of poesie;
Somme drybblette[49] share you shoulde to yatte[50] alyse[51],
Nott makynge everyche thynge bee hystorie; 30
Instedde of mountynge onn a wynged horse,
You onn a rouncy[52] dryve yn dolefull course.

Cannynge & I from common course dyssente;
Wee ryde the stede, botte yev to hym the reene;
Ne wylle betweene crased molterynge bookes be pente, 35
Botte soare on hyghe, & yn the sonne-bemes sheene;
And where wee kenn somme ishad[53] floures besprente,
We take ytte, & from oulde rouste doe ytte clene;
Wee wylle ne cheynedd to one pasture bee,
Botte sometymes soare 'bove trouthe of hystorie. 40

Saie, Canynge, whatt was vearse yn daies of yore?
Fyne thoughtes, and couplettes fetyvelie[54] bewryen[55],
Notte syke as doe annoie thys age so sore,
A keppened poyntelle[56] restynge at eche lyne.
Vearse maie be goode, botte poesie wantes more, 45
An onlist[57] lecturn[58], and a songe adygne[59];
Accordynge to the rule I have thys wroughte,
Gyff ytt please Canynge, I care notte a groate.

The thynge yttself moste bee ytts owne defense;
Som metre maie notte please a womannes ear. 50
Canynge lookes notte for poesie, botte sense;
And dygne, & wordie thoughtes, ys all hys care.
Canynge, adieu!
I do you greete from hence;
Full soone I hope to taste of your good cheere;
Goode Byshoppe Carpynter dyd byd mee saie, 55
Hee wysche you healthe & selinesse for aie.

T. ROWLEIE.

[Footnote 35: nought. ]

[Footnote 36: they. ]

[Footnote 37: esteem. ]

[Footnote 38: heraldry. ]

[Footnote 39: such. ]

[Footnote 40: unwilling. ]

[Footnote 41: much. ]

[Footnote 42: wisdom, council. ]

[Footnote 43: if. ]

[Footnote 44: perchance. ]

[Footnote 45: them. ]

[Footnote 46: Greybeards. ]

[Footnote 47: curiously.