They haue the fruite, yet free from blame. This doth perswade in all here ment, See all, say nought, hold thee content.
The Prouerbe is not South and west, (20) which hath bene sayd long time agoe, Of little medling commeth great rest: +The busie man neuer wanteth woe, The best way is, in all worldes sent, See all, say nought, hold thee content.
FINIS. I. Haiwood.
A description of the world. +
W Hat is this world, a net to snare the soule, A masse of sinne, a desart of deceipt, A momentes ioy, an age of wretched dole: A lure from grace, for flesh a lothsome baite, (5) Unto the minde a canker worme + of care, Unsure, vniust, in rendring man his share.
A place where pride orerunnes the honest minde, where riche men ioynes, to robbe the shiftlesse wretch, where bribing mistes, do blind the Iudges eyen: (10) where Parasites, the fattest croms do catch, where good desartes, which chalenge like reward, Are ouer blowen, with blastes of light regard.
And what is man? dust, slime, a puffe of winde, Conceiude in sinne, plast in the world with grief, (15) Brought vp with care, till care hath caught his minde: And then till death vouchsafe him some relief, Day, yea nor night, his care doth take an end, To gather goodes, for other men to spend.
Oh foolish man, that art in office plaist, (20) Thinke whence thou camste, and whether thou shalt goe, The haut high okes, small windes haue ouercast: +when slender weedes, in roughest weather grow,