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| HAST thou desire thy golden dayes to spend | |
| In blissfull state exempt from all annoyes? | |
| So liue as if death now thy life should end; | |
| Still treade the pathes that leade to perfect ioyes. | |
| Bee slow to shine, but speedie to ask grace: | 5 |
| How are they blest that thus runne out their race! | |
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| Ech night, ere sleepe shut vp thy drowsie eyes, | |
| Thinke thou how much in day thou hast transgrest, | |
| And pardon craue of God in any wise, | |
| To doe that’s good, and to forsake the rest. | 10 |
| Sinne thus shake of; the fiend for enuie weepes, | |
| Sound are our ioyes, most quiet are our sleepes. | |
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| Haue not thy head so cloyd with worldly cares, | |
| As to neglect that thou shouldst chiefly minde; | |
| But beare an eye to Sathan’s wily snares, | 15 |
| Who to beguile a thousand shiftes will finde. | |
| Vaine are the ioyes that wretched world allowes: | |
| Who trust them most doe trust but rotten bowes. | |
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| Shunne filthy vice; persist in doing well; | |
| For doing well doth godly life procure; | 20 |
| And godly life makes vs with Christ to dwell | |
| In endlesse blisse that euer shall endure. | |
| Wee pray thee, Lord, our follyes to redresse, | |
| That we thus doe, thus liue, this blisse possesse. | |
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