Willobie His Avisa Or The true Picture of a modest Maid, and of a chast and constant wife. In Hexamiter verse. The like argument wherof, was neuer heretofore published [by Henry Willoby] |
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Willobie His Avisa | ||
CANT. LVIII.
AVISA.
What filthy folly, raging lust,
What beastly blindnes fancy breeds?
As though the Lord had not accurst,
With vengeance due, the sinfull deeds?
Though vaine-led youth with pleasure swell,
Yet marke these words that I shall tell.
What beastly blindnes fancy breeds?
As though the Lord had not accurst,
With vengeance due, the sinfull deeds?
Though vaine-led youth with pleasure swell,
Yet marke these words that I shall tell.
Who so with filthy pleasure burnes;
His sinfull flesh with fierie flakes
Must be consum'd; whose soule returnes
To endlesse paine in burning lakes.
You seeme by this, to wish me well,
To teach me tread the path to hell.
His sinfull flesh with fierie flakes
Must be consum'd; whose soule returnes
To endlesse paine in burning lakes.
You seeme by this, to wish me well,
To teach me tread the path to hell.
Call you this (Loue) that bringeth sin,
And sowes the seeds of heauie cheere?
If this be loue, I pray begin,
To hate the thing I loue so deere;
I loue no loue of such a rate,
Nor fancie that, which God doth hate.
And sowes the seeds of heauie cheere?
If this be loue, I pray begin,
To hate the thing I loue so deere;
I loue no loue of such a rate,
Nor fancie that, which God doth hate.
But what saith he that long had tryde
Of harlots all the wanton slights;
Beware least that your hart be tyde,
To fond affects by wanton sights:
Their wandring eies, and wanton lookes
Catch fooles as fish, with painted hookes.
Of harlots all the wanton slights;
Beware least that your hart be tyde,
To fond affects by wanton sights:
Their wandring eies, and wanton lookes
Catch fooles as fish, with painted hookes.
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Their lippes with oyle and honie flow,
Their tongs are fraught with flattering guile;
Amidst these ioyes great sorrowes grow;
For pleasures flourish but a while,
Their feete to death, their steps to hell,
Do swiftly slide, that thus do mell.
Their tongs are fraught with flattering guile;
Amidst these ioyes great sorrowes grow;
For pleasures flourish but a while,
Their feete to death, their steps to hell,
Do swiftly slide, that thus do mell.
Then flie this dead and dreadfull loue,
This signe of Gods reuenging ire;
Let loue of God such lust remoue,
And quench the flames of foule desire:
If you will count me for your frend,
You must both workes and words amend.
This signe of Gods reuenging ire;
Let loue of God such lust remoue,
And quench the flames of foule desire:
If you will count me for your frend,
You must both workes and words amend.
Willobie His Avisa | ||