University of Virginia Library

When bytter Wynter forced had the Sun
Fro the horned Goat to Pisces ward to run,
And lively sap, that greneth gardins foote,
To flye the stocke to save her nurse, the roote,
And sleety Cech that blowth by North fro East,
Decayd the health and welth of man and beast,
The almighty minde that rayneth thre in one,
Disposing all thinges from his stable throne,
Beheld the earth, and man among the rest:
Movde by the crye of such as wer opprest.
And when he had the maynland throughly vewed,
With Mahometrie and Idol blud embrewed,
Wherthrow his Law and Gospel wer defylde,
His love, his awe, his worship quite exilde,
He turnd his iyes from that so fowle a sight,
And toward the Iles he cast his looke a right:
In hope that where true knowledge did abound,
He should sum lovelyer sight have quickely found.
But when he sawe all vice most vile and naught
Most rifely swarme, where truth had most be taught,
In England chefe, which he of speciall grace
Had made his wurd and chosens resting place,
And had for that cause powrd on it such store
Of welthy giftes as none could wishe for more,
Ioynt with a King, of such a godly minde,


As seldome erst he elswhere had assinde,
All wo and wroth he flang away his face,
And to him selfe he thus bewayld the case.
To see this people should theyr sinnes forsake,
I haue lookt so long, vntill mine eyes do ake.
To hide their mischiefes waxing more and more,
I haue winkt so long till loe my bryes be sore.
My throte is horce, my lippes haue lost theyr skinne
Through feruent crye to fray them from theyr sinne.
Might gentlenes haue movde them to relent,
What have they wisht, that hath not strait be sent?
Sith then they passe for neyther threats, nor love,
Nor easy plages wherby I do them prove,
What els remayns but to destroy them all,
The yong, the old, the myghty with the small.
Chryst hearing this, and moved with the teares
Of vertuous folke, (for whose sake God forbeares
The wicked sort although their sinnes be great)
For his elect on this sort gan intreat.
If Iustice due (dere father) should haue place,
I knowe it booteth not to sewe for grace:
But though their sins all measure far excede,
Yet stay thy wrath, haue mercy on our nede.
And sith through fayth a mayny of them be mine,
Graunt leave this once to water this thy vine:
That doen, if so their fruytes do not amend,
As barrayne brambles bryng them to an end.