| |
| WHEN that repentant tears hath cleansed clear from ill | |
| The charged breast; and grace hath wrought therein amending will; | |
| With bold demands then may his mercy well assail | |
| The speech man saith, without the which request may none prevail. | |
| More shall thy penitent sighs his endless mercy please, | 5 |
| Than their importune suits, which dream that words God’s wrath appease. | |
| For heart, contrite of fault, is gladsome recompense; | |
| And prayer, fruit of Faith, whereby God doth with sin dispense. | |
| As fearful broken sleeps spring from a restless head, | |
| By chattering of unholy lips is fruitless prayer bred. | 10 |
| In waste of wind, I rede, 1 vow nought unto the Lord, | |
| Whereto thy heart to bind thy will, freely doth not accord; | |
| For humble vows fulfill’d, by grace right sweetly smoke: | |
| But bold behests, broken by lusts, the wrath of God provoke. | |
| Yet bet 2 with humble heart thy frailty to confess, | 15 |
| Than to boast of such perfectness, whose works such fraud express. | |
| With feigned words and oaths contract with God no guile; | |
| Such craft returns to thine own harm, and doth thyself defile. | |
| And though the mist of sin persuade such error light, | |
| Thereby yet are thy outward works all dampned in his sight. | 20 |
| As sundry broken dreams us diversly abuse, | |
| So are his errors manifold that many words doth use. | |
| With humble secret plaint, few words of hot effect, | |
| Honour thy Lord; allowance vain of void desert neglect. | |
| Though wrong at times the right, and wealth eke need oppress, | 25 |
| Think not the hand of justice slow to follow the redress. | |
| For such unrighteous folk as rule withouten dread, | |
| By some abuse or secret lust he suffereth to be led. | |
| The chief bliss that in earth to living man is lent, | |
| Is moderate wealth to nourish life, if he can be content. | 30 |
| He that hath but one field, and greedily seeketh nought, | |
| To fence the tiller’s hand from need, is king within his thought. | |
| But such as of their gold their only idol make, | |
| No treasure may the raven of their hungry hands aslake. | |
| For he that gapes for gold, and hoardeth all his gain, | 35 |
| Travails in vain to hide the sweet that should relieve his pain. | |
| Where is great wealth, there should be many a needy wight | |
| To spend the same; and that should be the rich man’s chief delight. | |
| The sweet and quiet sleeps that wearied limbs oppress, | |
| Beguile the night in diet thin, not feasts of great excess: | 40 |
| But waker 3 lie the rich; whose lively heat with rest | |
| Their charged bulks 4 with change of meats cannot so soon digest. | |
| Another righteous doom I saw of greedy gain; | |
| With busy cares such treasures oft preserved to their bane: | |
| The plenteous houses sackt; the owners end with shame | 45 |
| Their sparkled goods; their needy heirs, that should enjoy the same, | |
| From wealth despoiled bare, from whence they came they went; | |
| Clad in the clothes of poverty, as Nature first them sent. | |
| Naked as from the womb we came, if we depart, | |
| With toil to seek that we must leave, what boot to vex the heart? | 50 |
| What life lead testy men then, that consume their days | |
| In inward frets, untemper’d hates, at strife with some always. | |
| Then gan I praise all those, in such a world of strife, | |
| As take the profit of their goods, that may be had in life. | |
| For sure the liberal hand that hath no heart to spare | 55 |
| This fading wealth, but pours it forth, it is a virtue rare: | |
| That makes wealth slave to need, and gold become his thrall, | |
| Clings 5 not his guts with niggish 6 fare, to heap his chest withal; | |
| But feeds the lusts of kind with costly meats and wine; | |
| And slacks the hunger and the thirst of needy folk that pine. | 60 |
| No glutton’s feast I mean in waste of spence 7 to strive; | |
| But temperate meals the dulled spirits with joy thus to revive. | |
| No care may pierce where mirth hath temper’d such a breast: | |
| The bitter gall, season’d with sweet, such wisdom may digest. | |
