M Y fraile and earthly barke by reasons guide, +(Which holds the helme, whilst will doth yeld + the saile) By my desires the windes of bad betide, Hath saild these worldly seas with small auaile, (5) Vaine obiects serue for dreadfull rocks to quaile, My brittle boate, from hauen of life that flies, To haunt the Sea of Mundane miseries.
My soule that drawes impressions from aboue, And viewes my course, and sees the windes aspire, (10) Bids reason watch to scape the shoales of Loue, But lawles will enflamde with endles ire, Doth steere in poope whilst reason doth retire: The storms increase, my barke loues billowes fill; Thus are they wrackt, that guide their course by will.
T. L. Gent.
M Idst lasting griefes, to haue but short repose, +In little ease, to feede on loath’d suspect, Through deepe despite, assured loue to lose, In shew to like, in substance to neglect:
(5) To laugh an howre, to weepe an age of woe, From true mishap to gather false delight, To freeze in feare, in inward hart to glowe: To read my losse within a ruthles sight:
To seeke my weale, and wot not where it lies, (10) In hidden fraud, an open wrong to finde, Of ancient thoughts, new fables to deuise, Delightfull smiles, but yet a scornfull minde:
T. L. Gent.