University of Virginia Library

Oh happy ar they that have forgiffnes gott
Off their offence (not by their penitence
As by meryt wych recompensyth not
Altho that yet pardone hath non offence
Withowte the same) but by the goodnes
Off hym that hath perfect intelligens
Off hert contrite, and coverth the grettnes
Off syn within a marcifull discharge.
And happy ar they that have the willfullness
Off lust restraynd, afore it went at large,
Provokyd by the dred of goddes furour
Wherby thei have not on theyre bakes the charge
Of othrs fawte to suffer the dolour;
For that thire fawte was neuer excecute
In opyn syght, example of errour;
And happi is he to whom god doth impute
No more his faut by knoleging his syn
But clensid now the lord doth hym repute,
As adder freshe new stryppid from his skin;
Nor in his sprite is owght vndiscoverd.
I for by cawse I hidd it still within,
Thynking by state in fawte to be preferd,
Do fynd by hyding of my fawte my harme,
As he that feels his helth to be hinderd
By secrete wound concelid from the charme
Of lechis cure that elles had had redresse,
And fele my bonis consume and wax vnfarme
By dayly rage roryng in excesse.
Thy hevy hand on me was so encrest
Both day and nyght and held my hert in presse
With priking thowghtes byreving me my rest,
That wytherd is my lustynes away
As somer hettes that hath the grene oprest;
Wherfore I did an othr way assay,
And sowght forthwith to opin in thi syght
My fawt, my fere, my filthines, I say,
And not to hide from the my gret vnryght.
I shall (quod I) agaynst my sellff confesse
Vnto the lord all my synfull plyght;
And thou forthwith didst washe the wikkednes
Off myn offence, of trowgth ryght thus it is.
Wherfor they that have tastid thi goodnes
At me shall take example as of this,
And pray and seke in tyme for tyme of grace.
Then shall the stormes and fluddes of harme him miss,
And hym to rech shall neuer have the space.
Thow art my refuge and only savegard
From the trobles that compasse me the place.
Such Joy as he that skapis his enmis ward
With losid bondes hath in his libertie,
Such Joy, my Joy, thow hast to me prepard,
That as the seman in his Jeopretie
By soden lyght perceyvid hath the port,
So by thy gret marcifull propertie
Within thi lok thus rede I my confort.
I shall the tech and gyve vnderstondyng,
And poynt to the what way thou shalt resort;
For thi adresse to kepe the from wandryng,
Myn iye shall tak the charge to be thy guyde.
I aske therto of the alone this thing:
Be not like horse or Mule that man doth ryde,
That not alone doth not his master know,
But for the good thou dost hym must be tyde
And brydeld, lest his guyd he bite or throw.
Oh dyuerse ar the chastysinges off syn!
In mete, in drynk, in breth that man doth blow,
In slepe, in wach, in fretyng styll within,
That neuer soffer rest vnto the mynd;
Filld with offence, that new and new begyn
With thowsand feris the hert to strayne and bynd.
But for all this he that in god doth trust
With mercy shall hym sellff defendid fynd.
Joy and reioyse, I say, ye that be just
In hym that makth and holdyth yow so still;
In hym your glory alwey set yow must,
All ye that be off vpright hert and will.