A Treatise entitled the Path waye to the towre of perfection Compiled by Myles Huggarde |
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To the Reader. |
 | A Treatise entitled the Path waye to the towre of perfection |  |
To the Reader.
Presumed
I haue good gentyll Reader,
To make this treatise thus vnlearnedly,
Not that I woulde seeme to be a leder,
Of other men, for trulye none knowe I,
That wourse dothe lyue, displeasing god hye,
Than my selfe dothe, and therfore I pray,
All men to iudge well in that I will saye.
To make this treatise thus vnlearnedly,
Not that I woulde seeme to be a leder,
Of other men, for trulye none knowe I,
That wourse dothe lyue, displeasing god hye,
Than my selfe dothe, and therfore I pray,
All men to iudge well in that I will saye.
I study not for any eloquence,
For if I dyd my labour were in vaine,
First because I lacke the intelligence,
The whiche therunto doeth truly apertaine:
Secondely if I coulde, litle woulde it gaine,
The simple folke to whō I haue this boke wild,
Whiche in eloquente speache, is litle skilde,
For if I dyd my labour were in vaine,
First because I lacke the intelligence,
The whiche therunto doeth truly apertaine:
Secondely if I coulde, litle woulde it gaine,
The simple folke to whō I haue this boke wild,
Whiche in eloquente speache, is litle skilde,
And as for suche as trulye learned be,
The which wil wast time, this treatise to reade
Where they any fault in the same shal see,
I hertely pray thē, where their wisedomes seith nede
The same to correcte, for why this my dede,
I fancye not so, but I knowe I may erre,
Sith in such mater I do wade so farre.
The which wil wast time, this treatise to reade
Where they any fault in the same shal see,
I hertely pray thē, where their wisedomes seith nede
The same to correcte, for why this my dede,
I fancye not so, but I knowe I may erre,
Sith in such mater I do wade so farre.
Well I maye erre I saie, by ignoraunce,
But not to my knowledge that I knowe well,
For in maters of faieth I haue assuraunce,
From whiche I thanke God, I yet neuer fell,
Nor I trust neuer shal, thoughe the deuil in hell,
Would from this same faith me daily perswaid,
But God in whom I trust, is alway mine aide.
But not to my knowledge that I knowe well,
For in maters of faieth I haue assuraunce,
From whiche I thanke God, I yet neuer fell,
Nor I trust neuer shal, thoughe the deuil in hell,
But God in whom I trust, is alway mine aide.
This litle worke I haue intiteled,
The Pathe way to the toure of perfection,
Wherin to walke God hath all men willed,
Bothe by him selfe and the discripcion,
Of his blessed worde with this condicion,
That excepte we beleue and his lawe obay,
We are none of his, he dothe plainly saye.
The Pathe way to the toure of perfection,
Wherin to walke God hath all men willed,
Bothe by him selfe and the discripcion,
Of his blessed worde with this condicion,
That excepte we beleue and his lawe obay,
We are none of his, he dothe plainly saye.
Finis.
| A Treatise entitled the Path waye to the towre of perfection | |