¶ The Author's Epistle to the late Lord William Paget, wherein he doth discourse of his owne bringing vp, and of the goodnes of the said Lord his master vnto him, and the occasion of this his booke, thus set forth of his owne long practise.
Chap. 1.
1[E6]
T Time trieth the [troth],[E7] in euerie thing,
H Herewith let men content their minde,[1]
O Of works, which best may profit bring,
M Most rash to iudge, most often blinde.
A As therefore troth in time shall craue,
S So let this booke iust fauor haue.
2
T Take you my Lord and Master than,
U Vnlesse mischance mischanceth me,[E8]
S Such [homelie] gift, of me your man,
S Since more in Court I may not be,
A And let your praise, wonne heretofore,
R Remaine abrode for euermore.[E9]
3
M My seruing you, (thus vnderstand,)
A And God his helpe, and yours withall,[E10]
D Did cause good lucke to take mine hand,
E [Erecting] one most like to fall.
M My seruing you, I know it was,
E Enforced this to come to pas.
4
Since being once at Cambridge taught,
Of Court ten yeeres I made [assaie],
No Musicke then was left vnsaught,
Such care I had to serue that waie.
When ioie gan [slake], then made I change,
[Expulsed][2] mirth, for Musicke strange.
5
My Musicke since hath bene the plough,
Entangled with some care [among],
The gaine not great, the paine ynough,
Hath made me sing another song.
Which song, if well I may auow,
I craue it iudged be by yow.
Your seruant Thomas Tusser.
[1] How euery man doth please his mind. 1577.