Stephen Hawes

Here you will find the Long Poem The Cōuercyon of Swerers of poet Stephen Hawes

The Cōuercyon of Swerers

The fruytfull sentence & the noble werkes 
To our doctryne wryten in olde antyquyte 
By many grete and ryght notable clerkes 
Grounded on reason & hyghe auctoryte 
Dyde gyue vs example by good moralyte 
To folowe the trace of trouthe and ryghtwysnes 
Leuynge our synne and mortall wretchednes 
By theyr wrytynge dothe vnto vs appere 
The famous actes of many a champyon 
In the courte of fame renowned fayre and clere 
And some endyted theyr entencyon 
Cloked in coloure harde in construccyon 
Specyally poetes vnder cloudy fygures 
Coueryd the trouthe of all theyr scryptures 
So hystoryagraphes all the worthy dedes 
Of kynges and knyghtes dyde put in wrytynge 
To be in mynde for theyr memoryall medes 
How sholde we nowe haue ony knowledgynge 
Of thynges past/but by theyr endytynge 
Wherfore we ought to preyse them doubteles 
That spente theyr tyme in suche good besynes 
Amonge all other my good mayster Lydgate 
The eloquent poete and monke of bery 
Dyde bothe contryue/and also translate 
Many vertuous bookes to be in memorye 
Touchynge the trouthe well and sentencyously 
But syth that his dethe was intollerable 
I praye god rewarde hym in lyfe perdurable 
Amonge all thynges nothynge so prouffytable 
As is scyence with the sentencyous scrypture 
For worldly rychesse is often transmutable 
As dayly dothe appere well in vre 
Yet scyens a bydeth and is moost sure 
After pouerte to attayne grete rychesse 
Scyens is cause of promocyon doubtles 
I lytell or nought expert in poetrye 
Remembrynge my youth so lyght and frayle 
Purpose to compyle here full breuyatly 
A lytell treatyse wofull to bewayle 
The cruell swerers whiche do god assayle 
On euery syde his swete body to tere 
With terryble othes as often as they swere 
But also for drede plonged in neclygence 
My penne doth quake to presume to endyte 
But hope at laste to recure this scyence 
Exorteth me ryght hardely to wryte 
To deuoyde ydlenesse by good appetyte 
For ydlenesse the grete moder of synne 
Euery vyce is redy to lette ynne 
I with the same ryght gretely infecte 
Lykely to deye tyll grace by medecyne 
Recured my sekenes my payne to abiecte 
Commaundynge me by her hye power deuyne 
To drawe this treatyse for to enlumyne 
The reders therof by penytencyall pyte 
And to pardon me of theyr benygnyte 

Ryght myghty prynces of euery crysten rygyon 
I sende you gretynge moche hertly & grace 
Right wel to gouerne vpryght your dominyon 
And all your lordes I greete in lyke cace 
By this my lettre your hertes to enbrace 
Besechynge you to prynte it in your mynde 
How for your sake I toke on me mankynde 
And as a lambe moost mekely dyde enclyne 
To suffre the dethe for your redempcyon 
And ye my kynges whiche do nowe domyne 
Ouer my comons in terrestryall mancyon 
By pryncely preemynence and Iuredyccyon 
In your regall courtes do suffre me be rente 
And my tender body with blode all be sprente 
Without my grace ye maye nothynge preuayle 
Though ye be kynges for to mayntene your see 
To be a kynge it may nothynge auayle 
But yf my grace preserue his dygnyte 
Beholde your seruauntes how they do tere me 
By cruell othes now pvon euery syde 
Aboute the worlde launcynge my woūdes wyde 
All the graces whiche I haue you shewed 
Reuolue in mynde ryght ofte ententyfly
Beholde my body with blody proppes endewed 
Within your realmes nowe torne so pyteously 
Towsed and tugged with othes cruelly 
Some my heed some myn armes and face 
Some my herte do all to rente and race 
They newe agayne do hange me on the rode 
They tere my sydes and are nothynge dysmayde 
My woundes they open and deuoure my blode 
I god and man moost wofully arayde 
To you complayne it maye not be denayde 
ye nowe to tug me/ye tere me at the roote 
yet I to you am chefe refuyte and boote 
Wherfore ye kynges reygnynge in renowne 
Refourme your seruauntes in your courte abused 
To good example of euery maner towne 
So that theyr othes whiche they longe haue vsed 
On payne and punysshement be holly refused 
Meke as a Lambe I suffre theyr grete wronge 
I maye take vengeaunce thoughe I tary longe 
I do forbere I wolde haue you amende 
And graunte you mercy and ye wyll it take 
O my swete brederne why do ye offende 
Agayne to tere me whiche deyed for your sake 
Lose my kyndenes and frome synne awake 
I dyde redeme you frome the deuylles chayne 
And spyte of me ye wyll to hym agayne 
Made I not heuen the moost gloryous mansyon 
In whiche I wolde be gladde to haue you in 
Now come swete brederne to myn habytacyon 
Alas good brederne with your mortall synne 
Why flee ye frome me/to torne agayne begynne 
I wrought you I bought you ye can it not denye 
Yet to the deuyll ye go nowe w