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Strophe. 1.
This
earth, is the nourishing feate,
As well that deliuers to eate:
As els throwes out all that we can
Deuise, that should be needefull fore
The health, of or disease or sore,
The houshold companions of man.
And this earth, hath hearbes soueraine,
To empeach sicknesses sodaine,
If they be well aptlie applide.
And this yearth, spues vp many a breuage,
Of which if we knew well the vsage:
Would force the force Acherontide.
Breefe, it lendes vs all that we haue,
With to liue: and it is our graue.
But with all this, yet cannot giue,
Us fayre renowmes, when we be dead.
And in deede they are onelie made,
By our owne vertues whiles we liue.
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