YOUTH ADDRESSED BY VICE AND VIRTUE.
BRAVE youth! if to this woman, sterne and grim, Thou care doe give, and wilt her footsteps tread, In a most irksome way she will thee lead, With great turmoile and dangers manifold, In summer's parching heat and winter's cold, Through many a thorny steepe and craggy ground, Wherein no pleasing mates are to be found, But savage beasts and monsters fell, to whom, In end, a wofull prey thou shalt become. But if thou wilt resolve to goe with mee, In this my way, thou shalt be wholly free From all such toile and danger: passing still Through flowrie fields and medowes, where at will Thou maist most pleasant company enjoy, And all delightful sports without annoy.
To please thine eyes I use no curious art, without disguise True and unstain'd to be; which to thy view Her inward falsehood and my truth may shew, As painfull, dreadfull, dangerous, my path— Yea, and pernicious, she traduced hath; Her's vaunting to be pleasant and secure, And such as might all joy to thee procure. In both she a most shamelesse liar is;
For that my path, though painfull, leads to blisse
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And glory yea, the pains thereof are sweet, For that with solid inward joyes they meet: Whereas her way, though pleasant she it name, Leads to destruction, infamy, and shame.
HE that performes not what he ought, But doth the same neglect, Let him be sure not to receive The thinge he doth expect. When once the tall and loftie tree Vnto the ground doth fall, Why euery peassont hath an axe To hew his boughes withall. He that for virtue merrits well, And yet doth nothing clayme, A double kind of recompence Deserueth for the same.
Acquaint me but with whom thou goest, And thy companions tell,
I will resolue thee what thou doest, Whether ill done or well.
He knowes enough that knoweth nought, If he can silence keepe:
The tongue oft makes the heart to sigh, The eyes to waile and weepe.
He takes the best and choycest course Of any man doth live,
That takes good counsell when his friend Doth that rich iewell give.
WHEREIN YOU SHALL FINDE GREAT CONSOLATION FOR A TROUBLED MINDE.
AYME not too hie in things above thy reach, Be not too foolish in thyne own conceit; As thou hast wit and worldly wealth at will, So give Him thankes that shall increase it still. Beware of pride, the mother of mishap, Whose sugred snares will seek thee to entrap; Be meeke in heart and lowly minded still, So shalt thou God's commandments fulfill. Cast all thy care upon the Lord, and he In thy distresse will send to succour thee; Cease not therefore to serue him euʼry day, Who with His blood thy ransome once did pay. Driue from thy heart ill thoughts that may offend, Desire of God his Holy Spirit to send, Which will direct thy life into such a sort As thou thereby shall find ioy and comfort. Feare to offend his heavenly Maiestie; Faith doth confirm true loue and loyaltie, Without which faith, as holy Scriptures say, No man to heaven can find the perfect way. Great is the Lord, and mercifull, doubtlesse, To those that with true zeale their faults confesse; But unto those in mischiefe dayly runnes,
He lets alone to taste what after comes.
Hope in the Lord, on him repose thy trust,
Serue him with feare, whose iudgements are most
Desire of him thy life so to direct,
That to thy soule he may have good respect. Iniure no man, but love thine enemie, Though to thy hurt, yet take it patiently, And think the Lord, although he suffer long, When time shall serve will soon revenge thy wrong.
Keepe thou no ranckor hidden in thine heart, Remember well the word Christ did impart, That is, forgive offences ouer-past, As thou thyself wilt be forgiuen at last. Lay not thy treasure up in hoarding sort, But therewithall thy poore feed and comfort; If thou cold water giue in Christ his name, Thrice double cold he will reward the same. Misorder not thy selfe in any wise;
In meat and drink let reason still suffice; Moderate thy mind and keepe thy selfe content, So shalt thou praise the Lord omnipotent.
From "Divine Meditations," Chap. XVIII.
On that my Muse could on her nimblest wings Mount you aloft beyond the foggy aire, Past the reflection of all terrene things,
And sublamate your soules to things more faire; That, touching these terrestrial beauties, we Might rather heare thinke why, than what they be!
First, what a spatious and maiestick hall, Full of officious seruants for your vse, Hath Heauen ordained to entertaine you all; Wherein, if any want, 'tis but th' abuse
Of foul excesse, whose surfets wasts the store That might supply the needies' wants twice o'er With what a downie carpet hath he spread The flowerie earth to entertaine your feete, Where euery plant and flowre that shews his head Brings with it profit, wonder, and delight;
How many a pretty flie with spotted wing Vpon there slender stalke their canzons sing! How many fruitfull champains feeding flocks, How many beautious forrests clad in greene, Where watery nimphes with soft embraces locks; Such shady groues, as for true loue may seeme Fit chappels to the winged singers' layes, And burbling streames to chaunt true beautie's praise.
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