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An Epitaph vppon the death of M. Ihon Bradford.
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[19]
An Epitaph vppon the death of M. Ihon Bradford.
No Scholler ought or must,
aboue his master be:
Who so doth serue, and honour God,
great troubles suffers he.
Eache sonne the Lord doth loue,
he beates and scourgeth ay:
Vnpleasant, hard, and strait the path
to heauen that leades the way.
aboue his master be:
Who so doth serue, and honour God,
great troubles suffers he.
Eache sonne the Lord doth loue,
he beates and scourgeth ay:
Vnpleasant, hard, and strait the path
to heauen that leades the way.
These saiynges, blessed Bradford, while
thou didst reuolue in minde:
The thundryng threates of wicked wights,
their cruelties vnkind,
Their flatteries fair, their force, their fraud,
thou nothing didst set by:
But didst yeld vp with willyng hart
thy Corps in fier to frie.
thou didst reuolue in minde:
The thundryng threates of wicked wights,
their cruelties vnkind,
Their flatteries fair, their force, their fraud,
thou nothing didst set by:
But didst yeld vp with willyng hart
thy Corps in fier to frie.
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