of his heade from side to side To his deafe eares the pilgrime thus replied Thou cursed serpent grounde of al disgrace By Idlenes begetting Ignorance which dost the sprigges of fairest rootes deface with lothsome course of lifes discountenaunce And makst a pleasure of the spirits paine Die in thy dreame and neuer wake againe Sleepe is the soules discase the mindes despight The curse of Nature and the crosse of rest The thoughtes disquiet and the darkesome night wherein the spirit likes the body lest A losse of time and reasons malladie where death is found but sorrowes remedy The watching virgins kindely were receiued when such as slept did loose their happy houre In dreames the sences often are deceiued when waking wits finde shadowes haue no power Then sleepe thy last where life hath neuer place God graunt my soule to watch praie for grace When thus the head of hateful slouthfulnes was soncke into the filthy sincke of sinne The harmeful head of al vnhappines Did lechery this loathsome tale beginne Alas poore pilgrime childe of chast desire Hast thou bin burnt thou canst not bide the fier A gentle iest a man to be a maide what minsing humor doth the sences measure That Nature can of beauty be afraide And loose her prime before she know her pleasure Fleshe hath no fauour in diuinity Nor Nature pleasure in virginity The childe that knowes not how to make his choice Must be a babe so babishe let him bee But he that knowes how better to reioice will seeke a worlde where sweeter thoughtes agree No thinke of loue to be that pleasing thought That for his will sets all the worlde at nought What figure findes not loue out of a face what humors notes he not in euery heare In beauties eies what stars doth he not place what roses in her cheekes doth she not beare what hony in her lippes and sweeter worth In her faire ground but he can gather forth It whets the wit and doth embolden will And maketh Arte to worke beyond her selfe It maketh nature study reasons skill And in her humors play the pretty elfe It bringeth fancy to a deinty feast And makes a man that woulde be els a beast What deinty glaunces passe from eies to eies when sweete conceites are secretly conceiued what comfortes can the kissing hearts deuise where kinde effectes of fauour are receiued Age can reporte and youth doth daily prooue There is no comforte to the course of loue And with that worde did ende his wicked charme Vnto which sounde the pilgrime gan reply Thou hatefull head and grounde of euery harme Venum compounded all of villany A foule infection of the fairest creature Die in the filth of thy corrupted nature Thou sleepy slouth that figurste out the swine with groueling humors tumbling on the grounde That canst not thinke vpon a thought diuine But liu'st in dreames where all deceits are founde How durst thou speake in that foule thoughts defence which breedeth nothing but the soules offence Vertue and vice were neuer friendes in deede Diana knowes that Venus is no maide But faith that doth on heauenly blessing feede Of foolish beauty maie be well afraide when Natures pleasure in virginity Shewes flesh hath fauoure in diuinity Equality is but a childish humor He is alone that keepes the lofty seate what voice is hard where al are in a rumor Or who is seru'd where euery one is great why patience is the paterne of a villaine That neuer came neare to a Kings pauilion And with that word she fed vpon her Snakes As if her heart did like none other foode where to the pilgrime soone this answere makes Vngratious grifte and voide of heauenly good Feede on thy Snakes vntill the poison fill thee And thine owne cancker with corruption kill thee Equality is childrens blessednes where many brethren are but one in loue The voice hard sweete whose sounde is holinesse And God wel seru'd where graces glory proue And he that patience paternes for a villaine shal neuer know the King of heauens pauilion Thou neuer readst the booke of Christ his Crosse Nor canst endure so sweete an A B C But thou art bounde to liue with labours losse where al the woes of al the worlde maie be God giue my spirit grace to seeke no more Then goe the waie his Sainctes haue gone before When as it seemde the venum wrought so sore within the hart as poisned so the heade As shrinking downe it sight and spake no more But with the rest the filthy body fedde when started vp the head of Murthring wrath As newly cumme from out summe bloody bath VVho grating of his teeth with knitting brow Shaking his fist as if he mente to fight Thou patch quod he where art thou plodding now hath patience thinkst thou such a princely might That shee can thee against my force defende And bring thee safely to thy Iourneies ende My life is most to lay me downe in blood I can endure no daunting of mine eie I onely loue to feede on bloody foode whom I once cease on they are sure to die How durst thou then approch so neere my sight whose fury standes withal the worlde to fight Poore patient hartes are tost from post to post when bloody swordes doe walke the worlde with wonder Poore patience many a patrimony lost while will resolu'de put wit and reason vnder Patience is oft from princely seate puld downe while bloody mindes do brauely beare the crowne Pitty is knowen sometime to marre a citty And Anger oftentimes is cause of quiet Sometime as good be wilful as be witty when bloody dishes make a dainty diet what armes of honor to a bloody field where Anger 's hande makes patient harts to yeelde VVhen as it seemde halfe stuffed vp with blood Stopping his tale the pilgrime thus replied Choke vp thy throat with that foule butchers food That neuer couldst the sounde of mercy bide But dost consume the hart of many a creature Die in the fury of thy filthy nature Fret fume and chafe I feare not of thy force I plod with patience where thou canst not cumme My patience hath such power in her remorse As furies sences quickely wil benumme And by her prowesse stoutly so defende me That thou nor thine nor ought els offende me Then lie and bath and tumble in thy bloode And stare stampe til thou hast donne thy worst Thy foule adherents I haue all withstoode And thou art but a spirit all accurst who though thou makst a number know thy might Where patience cums thou hast no power to fight Poore patient harts are tost from paine to peace When bloody swords do breede but hellish woes And patience patrimony is no leace But in a grounde where grace wisedome growes And patience sits with an Immortal crowne where tir aunt heads to hel are beaten downe Pitty must be the princesse of a citty And Anger breedeth nothing but disquiet wilful is good so that the wil be
neuer to returne There did appeare a light of little worth A mocking loie whose end was but to morne Vpon the left hand of this selly creature Venus faire painted with her finest feature Who wanting nothing that might wel adorne A cunning dame to compasse her desire with looke askaunce as if shee had in scorne A meaner hope them might a heauen aspire with straunge deuises of a world of toies would stoppe his passage to his further loies And vp shee standes a tipto in her state As if the earth too base were for her feete with such a glaunce as if shee had in hate That lesse then Monarches should her presence meete when with such smiles so neare this walke she went As made them wonder what the vision ment When he that first had taken charge to view What might their trauaile hinder or auaile Finding that in his sight a dimnes grew whereby the cleerenes of his sence might faile Feeling the humor grow vnto an Itche Beganne to feare the wonder was a witch VVhen of the sodaine holding vp his hande Betwixte his sight and this same perlous thing Hauing no leasure on his thoughtes to stande what issue would of this ill humor spring wente on alonge and kepte his walke aright Vntill this vision vanisht out of sight VVhen on the right hand fourthwith did appeare Diana shee of whom the poets writ A dame of state yet with such smiling cheere As shewd where kindenes did with honor sit who with her nimphes appareld all in white Did seeme to pure an obiect for his sight VVhen fearing that the poets did not faine That did set forth Diana for diuine when in her Beauty was so bright a vaine As seemde that Phoebus on her face did shine Betwixt his sight and this conceiued sunne Helde vp his hande ere any hurte was donne And thus betwixt first Venus then Diane Onwardes he goes his right intended way And noting well what he had vndertane And that a stoppe might cause to longe a staie Keeping the path looking on neither side He followes on his best beloued guide When walking on his hoped happy way Vpon the left hande rose a sodaine sounde which might haue beene a most vnhappy staie But that a sodaine remedy was found For he that knew her Musicke was a charme His hearing stopt for feare of further harme And this was he that had the charge to heare And harken soundly to each secret sounde what noise might not by any meanes cum neare And where the Muses soone woulde be a ground who hauing heard but how her harpe was stronge would not vouchsafe the hearing of her songe But when shee saw how hardly shee was vsed Her Beauty first barde from the walke of blisse And then her Musicke so in skorne refused As idle noise wherein no honor is Awaie shee went all angry as shee was And left the poore man oâ—… his waie to passe When one the right hand of the sodeine rose An other sound but of a deeper sweete Where sure Diana with her Nimphes had chose The ground of grace where all the Muses meete To shew the world the heauenly harmony VVhere Nightingales doe make a company VVhen hee that heard the sweetnes of the sound Fearing what hurt might quickly growe vpon it If once his Muse vnhapply might be drownde In worldes delight ere wit had ouergonne it The hearing stopt of his vnworthy sence Of such a sound of such an excellence But when Diana plainly gan to find That one of all the world had warning tooke For comming neere vnto Acteons kinde And that her siluer sound was so forsooke Away shee went but yet with this sweet blessing Vertue is plac'd where pride may not be pressing VVhen these were gon that might haue stoptâ—… his waie Had he not kepte the course of better care A new devise againe to breede his staie Came Flora forth with all his fairest ware Laying abroad the wardâ—…ope of her wealth Her fairest flowers and â—…ittest herbes for health But he that had the charge to take the sente Of euery sauoure both the sower and sweete Knowing what best might comforte or contente How weedes were all to tread but vnder feete The hoâ—…some sauoure to his seruice vsed And faire flourd weedes as poison foule refused But when that Flora saw her great disgrace VVithered with griefe she shrunke into the ground And as it seemed displeased with the place For that so little fauour their she found She lets him goe vntill anone he met An other Lady with another let And this was she of whom the Poets writ Ceres the Princes of the Pesaunts treasure VVho both fortast and eke for hunger fit Did onely worke but for the bellies pleasure VVho with a cornu copia sweetely dight would staie the spirit with the flesh delight But he that had the charge to take a tast Of every fruit whereon they were to feede what soone would rot and what would longest last And what would proue the sweetest foode indeede Vpon his lippe his little finger plas't As if her gift were vtterly disgras't Not that the present seemed of no price But that their comforts were of other kinde And that God wot it was a base deuise with belly pleasures to abuse the minde which Ceres seeing parted in a rage And left the pilgrime to his pilgrimage Which selly creature softly going on Encountred with more crosses then before A world of fooles and deuils many a one In shape of men in shape and somewhat more which labourd sore to make some stoppe or stay To hinder loue in hitting vertues waie But he whose charge was charily to feele what grounde was best to grounde his footing on spurnde with his toe and kickt of with his heele Their stumbling stones till all the stops were gone which when they saw his blisse they could not balke They tanne away and left him to his walke By which good howre when heauens had happly tried How constant care his passage truely past And in the harte no vile desire did bide while patient will was with discretion plac't They rockt the rules of natures sence asleepe while Angels songs the soule did waking keepe But waking wit that had no will to rest Till ioie might come vnto her iourneies sende And that the spirit was not fully blest Till humble faith might see her heauenly friende Awakte this pilgrime from his pensiue vaine And set him sweetely on his waie againe When passing on they fell into a wood A thicket full of brambles thornes and briers A graceles groue that neuer did man good But wretched sendinges of the worldes desires where Snakes and Adders such venuâ—…d things Had slaine a number with their cruell stinges Some Metamorphosde like Acteon were Diana smiling at their lewde desires Some Semitawres and some more halfe a Beare Other halfe swine deepe wallowing in the miers All beastly mindes that could not be reformed were to the shapes of their owne shame transformed There
his passage well When not to stand on circumstance too long He meetes anon with this same monster thing who by illusion of the Sirens song would seeke a worlde in bondage how to bring Turning himselfe into a thousand shapes To feare fond children and to cosen Apes And first he looks like to a fiery light which would consume what so did crosse his waie But soone was donne the force of his despight where vertue came he had no power to staie And then he would become a speaking birde But God once namde he durst not speake a worde And by and by he would become a Beare To feare young children with a foolish noise But when a man a beast can neuer feare He found it prou'de olde children were no boies when by and by he woulde become an Ape Oh beastly thing too neare a humaine shape But when that vertue founde the vile effect Of Apish humors with the Monckish mindes Shee wholy did the vermins iestes reiect And forst him seeke for shapes of other kindes when all his sleightes could doe him little boote For vertue knew the deuil by his foote No though into an Angell faire of light He coulde transforme him selfe for to deceiue Yet coulde he not his foote keepe out of sight But vertue coulde his filthy clawe perceiue So by his foote shee plainely did descrie him Bidding auaunte foule fiende shee did defie him When as the pilgrime lifting vp his eies To heauenly powers from hell for to defende him Sweete Christ once namde awaie the Serpent flies And for awhile vnable to offende him Til once againe the heauens had giuen him leaue To doe his worst sweete vertue to deceiue When in the shape whereof before I spake with his seuen heads the wicked Serpent standes with such a sounde as made the earth to shake As halfe the worlde were subiect to his handes when first his head of pride began to speake And to this pilgrime did this poison breake Thou little wretch quod he of lesser worth In humaine shape I know not what to name whom honors spirit neuer coulde bring forth To seeke the fortune of imperial fame How didst thou fal into this forlorne path wherein the worlde so little pleasure hath Where see the ground of euery secret griefe which mortifies the body with the minde Subiect to euery crosse and for reliefe Pitty the whole that thou must hope to finde Patience a paine set downe life but a death where care and sorrow draw a sickely breath VVhere eies must be embased to the ground Their pleasing humors barred to beholde And bended knees to cappe and courtzy bounde while bared head must bide the bitter colde The minde must stoupe the hande must loose his strength The hart must droupe and life must yeelde at length Is this the reach of Reasons noble wit To see a world and seeke for nothing in it In such a chaire doth charie humor sit To know a worke of worth and not beginne it who could of power conceiue the kingly pleasure would no conceit with such a comfort measure Humility a iolly creeping thought Patience a prety purgatory Sorrow a fit for the phisitian wrought And death a gentill ende of misery Fasting and praier al the spirits pleasure Notes for a King to looke vpon at leasure No stoupe no thought seeke only to subdue Set no conceit in honor with a crowne In begger minde true conquest neuer grew The village is a cotage to the towne The Monarchy doth shew the noble minde He hath no life that cummes of lower kinde VVhat slaue wil serue that easely may commaunde what sence wil stoupe that may be set alofte who wil desire that needes not to demaunde who loues the boordes may haue his bedde made softe Or who regardes the rascall beggers teares That may haue Musicke to contente his eares What poore conceit wil begge for crūmes of bread May haue his table furnisht all with cates Or breake his hart with hammers of his head May passe his humors with his pleasing mates Faire wise rich learned valiant young and olde Power is the hande doth at commandement holde And so he stopt but swelling with such pride As if his braine woulde haue with poison burst To whom the pilgrime presently replied Avaunt foule fiende and Monster most accurst Thou hate of heauen and greatest hagge of hell what wicked tale hast thou presumde to tell Wretched blasphemous spirit of presumption Ougly in shape and horrible in sence Thou cursed substance of the souls consumption The heauens displeasure and the worlds offence That knowst no worth art not worth the knowing Rot in thy roote ere thou haue further growing Thou wicked witch fonde fortunes first deuiser To bring a desperate spirit to defame And by illusion first the soules surpriser That heares thy wordes and wil beleeue the same How durst thou once presume so neere this path where hatefull humor neuer passage hath Thou grounde of griefe heere is the grounde of grace Thou foule infection heere is fairest health Thou crosse of crosses heere is comfortes place Thou pitties want and heere is pitties wealth Thou dire impatience dole and deadly strife Curst be the death that stoppes the waie of life Whose blinded eies are barde all blessed light whose crooked knees are crampt for crafty creeping whose triple crowne in vertues humble sight will breake thy necke and rest in better keeping whose hart subdued by hande of heauenly strength Must liue in paine of neuer ending length Calst thou the rage of wil the rules of wit Is all the world ought els but vanitie who in the chaire of chaunging choise doth sit Knowes nothing of diuine humanity Nor in conceit can comfort truly measure That knows not pride the plage of high displeasure Humility high Angels happy thought while patience is the deuils purgatory Sorrow a fit for faithes phisitians wroughte while high heauens mercy endes worldes misery Fasting and praier happines procuring while true repentance is but hope enduring Then stoupe foule pride whom heauens did full subdue Know that thy crowne is cumming tumbling downe Vertue doth see how by Illusion grew The worldes disgrace to grace thee with a crowne Monarch of mischiefe such is all thy minde Nor hath he life that cummes of such a kinde His seruice freedome that made thee a slaue His seate alofte that makes thee lie full lowe His wante a welth that sees thee nothing haue His boorde a bed that makes thee watch for woe His almes sweete that saues the beggers teares while thou hast naught but cries to fill thine eares A poore conceite that starues for lacke of crums And yet will tell the worlde of delicates who ofte for hunger feedst vpon thy thumbes when death and sorrowe are thy hellish mates Faire wise riche learned valiant olde and young Take heede of pride and of his poisned tongue And with that worde I knowe not how it fell But downe the crowne came tumbling on the grounde when as
the head with anger seemde to swell Like an Aposthume of a poisoned wounde which breaking inwarde of the sodaine shroncke Into the body oh most beastly troncke The heade of pride thus suddainely consumde Or shroncke into this filthy sincke of sinne The second head foule Auarice presumde with wicked wordes the miser mindes to winne Ah begger worme and needy wretch quod he what dost thou thinke that will become of thee Hath patience bred in thee this poore conceite That colde and hunger be thy harts content Doest thou not see how manie thousandes waite In honors fielde vpon the golden tente Or knowest thou not power wisedome wit and pleasure All haue their Essence in the golden treasure What face so faire that is not grac't in golde what wit of worth but hath in golde his wonder what learning but with golden lines doth holde what state so high but gold will bring him vnder what thought so sweete but gold doth better season And what rule best but in the golden reason Be lorde of landes and cram thy chest with coine Feare nought but neede mony will make a friende Let conscience learne the cunning to purloine wit without welth hath but a wofull ende The golden scepter and the golden crowne Doth make the subiect on his knees come downe The grounde is fat that yeeldes the golden fruite The study high that hits the golden state The labour sweete that gets the golden suite The reckning right that makes the goldeÌ„ rate The hap is sure that golden hope doth holde And rich is gaine that serues the god of golde And with that worde the wicked thing did cease when presently the pilgrime thus replied Oh cursed cancker crosse of conscience peace whose hatefull harte doth all ill humors hide Thou kindling cole of an Internall fire Die in the ashes of thy dead desire Impatient spirite liuing all by spoile Drunke like the dropsy and yet euer drye Consumde with care and tired out with toyle Seeminge to liue and yet dost ever die How duâ—…st thou so the name of god blaspheme To giue to drosse so great a Diademe Thou stone-colde hart with hungriâ—…g after coine My care in heauen doth seeke my hartes content Thou scrapst for pelfe I seeke not to purloine In vertues field I seeke but mercies tent When wisdome findes in power of highest pleasure The world al trash compard to heauenly treasure Fowle is the faire that hath her gold in grace worthines the wit that hath in wealth his wonder vnlearned liues put gold in honors place wicked the state that will to coine cume vnder Base the conceite that seasonde is with golde And begger rules that such a reason holde Thou plodst for landes I seeke a liuing place Thou fearste but neede I mony make no friâ—…de Thy conscience cunning and my care is grace Thy wits welth wo my harts wish heauen at ende Thy golde is drosse and vertue is my crowne where hartes submission puls ambition downe Earth giues thee golde heauens giue me higher grace Men study wealth but Angels wisedomes state Laboure seekes pence loue hath a higher place Death makes thy reckening life is all my rate Thy happe is hell my hope of heauen doth holde God giue me grace die deuill with thy golde And with that worde the head beganne to shrincke The face dead pale and hollow grew the eies And so at laste did all and wholy sincke Into that hell that heade of Auarice when vp did start the heade of Gluttonie Vomiting out theese wordes of villany Poore 〈◊〉 begger whereon dost thou feede well fare the mouth that feedes the belly full what staruing humor standes thy wit insteede The want of victuaile makes the body dull I finde it true no triumph to a feast the belly full the bones will be at rest Some feede their eies withstaring on the starres And starue the body to content the minde Some with their wittes will be so long at warres They grate on crusts when other men haue dinde But let the franticke so their humor please Giue me the life of meate and drinke and ease VVhen that the earth doth giue vs pleasing foode what reason is it nature shoulde refuse it If reason finde what wil doe nature good what bootes to haue it if we doe not vse it Then let me feede while I haue power to eat The mouth was made to giue the body meat Oh when the tongue is pleased with a tast The stomacke feeds vntil the hart do laugh And then a cuppe with a carowsing cast And then a health out of a frindely quaffe Then workes the braine in such a blessed wise As if the body were in paradise VVhen thinking more to speake his mouth ranne ouer with beastly humors loathsome to beholde And in such sort as he coulde not recouer Till that he did his filthy sence vnfolde when stopping so the pilgrime gan replie Die ougly venum in thy villany Thou filthy fat and ouerfoggy flesh Foule bagpipe-cheekes eies starting from the head whom heauenly humors neuer can refresh That all in hel hast made thy hateful bedde Heauens let me fast from such a loathsome feast where to much feeding makes a man a beast Earth fill thine eies heauens feede my humble hart Drosse fil thy belly Grace content my minde Of worldly lunckets take thy pleasing part Grace giue my soule one crum I haue dinde So with thy frensies doe thy fansie please Heauens be my rest whom earth can neuer ease Earth feedes of earth heauens giue the spirit foode Nature corrupted lost the key of reason The body knowes not of the spirits good Vse is abuse where truth is â—…aust with treason Then role and tumble in thy beastly â—…iot The dish of mercy be my spirits diet Oh when the tongue is toucht with cruel fire The stomacke feedes of an infernal flame A cuppe of coles to quench a foule desire A cureles hatt consuming in the same Then workes the spirit with such woful cries As proues in hel was neuer paradise When this same filthy hedde of Glotony Beastly bedight with his abhorred diet Choked with venum of such villany As breedes the ground of natures most disquiet Soncke backe into the belly of the beast which of such spirites made his speciall feast When started vp the head of slouthfulnes with ougly clawes picking his gummy eies who with the noddes of natures he uines Did in few wordes this filthy speech deuise what humor wretch doth thee so waking keepe That thou canst feede vpon so little sleepe Sleepe is the pride of ease the height of pleasure The Nurse of nature and the rule of rest The thoughtes attonement and the sences treasure The bedde of loue that likes the body best Against vnrest the only remedy And onely medicine to ech mallady And therewithall vnwilling more to speake Such heauy qualmes his harte had ouercome with stretching yawnes as if his Iawes would breake Hee stopt his speech as wholy stroken dumme when nodding
witty where bloode is bard the dish of mercies diet what Armes of honor to that heauenly fielde where patience force makes angers fury yeelde At which last worde the â—…retting furious head Fel with the rest into that sincke of sinne And with the body fel downe stroke as dead when patience did this pilgrimes ioy beginne with praysing heauens vsing humble praier To comforte hope and keepe of al dispaire When leauing so the ougly Monster slaine Onwardes she leades him on his happy way where ioiful pleasure after feare of paine Had set his sences at so sweete a staie That now he thought no Monster could offende him He had such proofe that patience woulde defende him But when the heauens that pitty haue of nature And know that sences woulde be gladde of rest Although the spirite waking keepe the creature Vnto such worke as like the wisedome best Into their garde did will the Angels take him Vntill they wilde the spirite shoulde awake him BVT when the spirite little time coulde spare Vnto the harte to giue the sences rest And reason founde that vertues happy fare was in the hande where with the soule is blest He wilde the sences from their sleepe arise And follow patience to their paradise When hauing past the path along the wood They came vnto a shore neare to a sea where lofty waues did threaten little good when rockes with patience make a drowning plea where stormes and tempests flawes and rocks and sands The perils shew wherein the sea man standes With patience heere this pilgrime must Imbarke within a shippe the buonauenture named when in the Mappe he founde out many a marke whereby conceite his course most happly framed And to be shorte with a resolued minde They hoist vp sailes God sende a merry winde When as they founde the tide would tary none And little wit it was to loose the winde what grounde was best to cast their ancker on And how they might their surest passage finde To scape the rockes and to auoide the sandes And keepe their carriage out of pirots handes And so along the surging seas they slide Till passing by capa di buon speranza Not farre from thence they did intende to ride Till some sweete winde that vertue ben auanza woulde bid them hoice their sailes and to be gone Towardes the heauen they were to hope vpon Where after sounding casting ancker out And striking saile and winding vp the cable Setting in order all thinges rounde aboute As well as such young Mariners were able with such good thoughtes as might the time beguile They fell to walke vpon the boordes awhile And riding but a while anone they spied A fisher man all in his boate alone with euery billow tost from side to side As made them leare his last farewell anone when moued with the pitty of good nature They calde abooâ—…de this selly wretched creature But for I did but little time bestow Amidde the fielde to seeke for honors fame And fortune sought my 〈◊〉 ouerthrow Before my haâ—… had entrance to the same I lefte that life and to the seas I gat where how I liu d I neede not tell you that I thinke your selues can teâ—… as wel as I If not alas it is no ease to learne So many labours in the life doe lie As are not in a daie for to disâ—…erne A daie a month nor many a yeare God wot As I could tel if I haue not forgotte First I did learne to set my compasse right And by my compasse how my course to run To marke each point as wel by day as night By night to marke the stars by day the funne Then take the Mappe to looke for rockes sandes Of which ful ofte the shippe in daunger standes Then narrowly to looke to euery leake And when the winde did serue to hoise my sailes To sounde the depth where se as beginne to breake And strike my saile when once my sea roome failes To Arme my fightes and plant mine ordnaunce so I might not stande in feaâ—…e to meete my foe Then did I learne to stande and guide the sterne And now and then to helpe to hoise vp ancker And otherwhiles the cunning to discernce To dresse hir sides to keepe hir from the cancker My termes of arte and patient to be painefull And how to hope to make my voiage gainful To lie ful colde and harde and fare full thinne To frame my carkas to vnkindest natures To beare of stomes and in a calme beginne To learne to kill the little creeping creatures To eate a fusty cake and teinted fish And one fresh morfell make a deinty dish To make no conscience so there came in gaine when siluer crosses keepe of many a curse A pitteous case to see the Merchant slaine For his owne goods to fil the pirots purse To sweare and stare vntil we come on shore Then rifty tufty each one to his skore The Master he sometime would fall asleepe The Masters mate to much â—…pon the can The boson he his cabin tooke to keepe And in the cookerome there the rie begare when all and some in halte a droncâ—…en swowne would leaue the shippe to sincke themselues to drowne But when I saw the kinde of life was such The griefe to great for any true good minds The labour sore the sorrow was to much To seeke for that which but repentance finds I left the shippe with manie a sorrie note And tooke me sweetely to my little boate And heere my trade is poore yet ful of peace And peace is riches though my trade be poore The sea is large whose landlorde makes no lease I toile for fishes and I seeke no more when stormes arise vnto the heauen I high me And in the sunne-shine set me downe and drie me But for I see the barke wherein you ride Of Buonaventure hath the blessed name And patience is a pure a perfect guide Vnto the fauour of eternal fame I hope the course is good that you intende Heauens bring you happly to your Iournies end This poore mans tale when thus the pilgrime harde He did along his company entreate Promising him a pilgrimes poore rewarde Besides his hope his comfort woulde be great If heauens did fauoure vertues enterprise Humbly to passe the path to paradise But when the fisher harde that fairest worde Of paradise once sounding in his eare He gaue consent and hoist his boat a boarde And casting of al sorrow care and feare They hoist vp sailes windes seru'de what would you more Onwardes they goe God sende them well a shore VVhen leauing Scilla to those selly guides That careles are to keepe their course aright By cuâ—…st Charibdis on he smoothly slides Till by good happe they had a land in sight To which they made with might maine as fast As windes woulde serue and got to shore at last Yet let me tel you ere they came a shore As through the OceaÌ„ they did make their way Tempests arose
when other life is dead Loue is thy grace that higest good doth giue Loue me then lorde and I shall euer liue And with that worde proceeding from her hart The trickeling teares distilled downe her eies As if her sence possest in euery part A secret ioie that did the soule surprise when lifting vp her handes oh loue quod shee My soule is sicke she cannot be with thee And from the mercy of thy maiesty Beholde the sorrowes of my wounded soule Let pitties care of loues calamitie My ruthfull teares thy register enrowle And thinke vpon the passions that I approue For truely lorde my soule is sicke of loue And sicke it is and so well maie it bee A sweeter sickenes then a worldly health A healthfull sickenes to be sicke for thee where Natures want doth proue the spirits wealth while hart hath set her highest happines But to beholde thee in thy holines But I am sicke and sicke in euery vaine Sicke to the death but not to die to thee For why thy loue assures me life againe And there to liue where death can neuer be Oh sweetest sicknes where the soule may see The way through death to come to liue with thee To liue with thee oh euer liuing loue Oh let me die that I may liue no more Till in thy loue I may the life approue That may confesse I neuer liu'de before Life is but death where thy loue shineth neuer Onely thy loue is happy life for euer My sinnes my sinnes with sorrow and with shame Of faultes and follies couerd haue my face Death is my due I haue deseru'd the same Wo to the hart in such vnhappy case But if repentance mercy may obtaine Looke on me loue and I am well againe Vnhappy hart that euer thee offended Vnworthy eies thy blessing to beholde Vncarefull eare that euer tale attended But to the truth that hath thy mercy tolde vnfaithful soule that euer thought did moue From euerliuing with thine onely loue But now the hartis dead to worldes delight And eies in teares pronounce repentance truth The eare is deafe vntill the hart be right To see the life that of thy loue ensueth The faithfull soule of pleasure is depriued Dead till her life be by thy loue reuiued Nor let me teâ—…pt that 〈◊〉 loue of thine To hasten time beyonde thy holy will But only looke vpon this soule of mine That in thy loue may be her liuing still Till shee may heare this ioiful â—…ounde of thee Come away loue and euer liue with me But yet my loue me 〈◊〉 I see thee looke As though my soule had thee displeased sore But hath my loue so high displeasure tooke That he will looke vpon my loue no more Oh yes my loue will not be angry euer And where he loues he will be angry neuer Then though thou chide yet be not angry loue But in thy kindenes giues thy sweete correction That humble hart maie in repentance proue The dearest passage of thy loues direction whose blessed ende may in this only be To liue to die to die to liue to thee Me thinkes I see that glorious seate of thine whereto thy Saints and Angels al assemble And in the presence of thy power diuine with Ioifull feare how euen the highest tremble And when those spirits doe such passions proue Shall I presume to think vpon thy loue Oh sweetest loue that carries such a force As keepes the hart of humble hope in awe And sweete againe that caries such remorse As hath cut off the curses of the lawe And sweetest yit that in the soule doth proue There is no sweete indeede but in thy loue Which feeds the huÌ„gry with a heaueÌ„ly bread And cooles the thirsty from the liuing Rocke which heales the sicke giues life vnto the dead And wakes the careful with the morning Cocke which breedes the peace that stinteth euery strife And giues the fountaine of the well of life It is the key that opes the doore of grace Vnto the care that thou hast constant proued And shewes the fauour of thy shining face Vnto the blessed of thy deare beloued It is in summe the infinite sweete pleasure Of tried faith and true Repentance treasure Oh ioy ofioies what hart can comprehend thee Oh sweet of sweets what sence that can coÌ„ceiue thee Blest be the harts that truly doe attend thee And ten times blest that in their soules receiue thee And fairely blest whom thou hast faithful proued But chiefly blest whom thou hast chiefly loued Me thinkes I see how sweetly thou dost ride Aboue the heauens vpon the Cherubs high with all thine Angels set on euery side with all the sound of sweetest harmony wheral some their sweetest notes do frame To sing the praises of thy holy name Me thinkes I see thy holy Martyrs crowned On huÌ„ble knees cast down their crowns before thee And cry alowd be thou alone renowned Let heauen and earth and all the world adore thee when my poore soule with sinne oppressed sore Can say Amen yet though it say no more Oh that my soule could see that sacred light That might but leade me to thy holy will And learne the rule that keepes the soule aright In perfect faith thy precepts to fulfill And might so neere vnto thy hand abide As from thy loue might neuer steppe aside But what am Iâ—… a worme and wretched thing Vnworthy creature made of earth and claie Once to presume to speake vnto my King On whom the state of highest heauens doth staie Let not presumption thy displeasure moue But in thy pitty looke vpon my loue For I am sicke oh sauiour sende me health My hart is hurt come heale my deadly wounde And I am poore relieue me with thy wealth Yea I am dead oh raise me from the grounde My health my wealth my only resurrection let my soule liue but in thy loues perfection Beholde the tearâ—…s of my repentaunt truth And wey my sorrowes by my sighing sobbes And in the rule but of thy heauenly ruth Feele my poore hart in horror how it throbbes And when thou seest my soule thus wo begun her In thy sweete mercy sweete loue looke vpon her And from the dew of thy deare blessed loue Let fall one droppe vpon my dried hart wherein my soule such comfort maie approue As maie asswage the rigour of my smart And being so by thy sweete hand relieued Maie so reioice as neuer more be grieued Lorde who dare looke against thy liuing power Or what doth liue but onely in thy loue The sweete of sweets where there was neuer sower But ioies of ioies that can no sorrow proue Oh purest proofe of loue and lifes perfection Blest be the soule that liues by thy direction But my hart pantes my soule doth quake for feare And sorrowes paine possesseth euery part My heape of sinnes to heuy for to beare Presse downe desire with terror of desart And in great dread of deepe dispaire doth crie Grace giue me life for