| |
| WHEN I bethought me well, under the restless Sun | |
| By folk of power what cruel works unchastised were done; | |
| I saw where stood a herd by power of such opprest, | |
| Out of whose eyes ran floods of tears, that bayned 1 all their breast; | |
| Devoid of comfort clean, in terrors and distress; | 5 |
| In whose defence none would arise such rigour to repress. | |
| Then thought I thus: ‘Oh Lord! the dead whose fatal hour | |
| Is clean run out more happy are; whom that the worms devour: | |
| And happiest is the seed that never did conceive; | |
| That never felt the wailful wrongs that mortal folk receive.’ | 10 |
| And then I saw that wealth, and every honest gain | |
| By travail won, and sweat of brows, ’gan grow into disdain, | |
| Through sloth of careless folk, whom ease so fat doth feed; | |
| Whose idle hands do nought but waste the fruit of other’s seed. | |
| Which to themselves persuade—that little got with ease | 15 |
| More thankful is, than kingdoms won by travail and misease. | |
| Another sort I saw without both friend or kin, | |
| Whose greedy ways yet never sought a faithful friend to win. | |
| Whose wretched corpse no toil yet ever weary could; | |
| Nor glutted ever were their eyes with heaps of shining gold. | 20 |
| But, if it might appear to their abused eyen, | |
| To whose avail they travail so, and for whose sake they pine; | |
| Then should they see what cause they have for to repent | |
| The fruitless pains and eke the time that they in vain have spent. | |
| Then gan I thus resolve—‘More pleasant is the life | 25 |
| Of faithful friends that spend their goods in common, without strife.’ | |
| For as the tender friend appeaseth every grief, | |
| So, if he fall that lives alone, who shall be his relief? | |
| The friendly feeres 2 lie warm in arms embraced fast; | |
| Who sleeps alone, at every turn doth feel the winter blast: | 30 |
| What can he do but yield, that must resist alone? | |
| If there be twain, one may defend the t’other overthrown. | |
| The single twined cords may no such stress endure | |
| As cables braided threefold may, together wreathed sure. | |
| In better far estate stand children, poor and wise, | 35 |
| Than aged kings, wedded to will, that work without advice. | |
| In prison have I seen, or this, a woful wight | |
| That never knew what freedom meant, nor tasted of delight; | |
| With such unhoped hap in most despair hath met, | |
| Within the hands that erst wore gyves to have a sceptre set. | 40 |
| And by conjures 3 the seed of kings is thrust from state, | |
| Whereon a grieved people work ofttimes their hidden hate. | |
| Other, without respect, I saw a friend or foe | |
| With feet worn bare in tracing such, whereas the honours grew. | |
| And at death of a prince great routs revived strange, | 45 |
| Which fain their old yoke to discharge, rejoiced in the change. | |
| But when I thought, to these as heavy even or more | |
| Shall be the burden of his reign, as his that went before; | |
| And that a train like great upon the dead attend, | |
| I gan conclude, each greedy gain hath its uncertain end. | 50 |
| In humble spirit is set the temple of the Lord; | |
| Where if thou enter, look thy mouth and conscience may accord! | |
| Whose Church is built of love, and deckt with hot desire, | |
| And simple faith; the yolden ghost his mercy doth require. | |
| Where perfectly for aye he in his word doth rest; | 55 |
| With gentle ear to hear thy suit, and grant thee thy request. | |
| In boast of outward works he taketh no delight, | |
| Nor waste of words; such sacrifice unsavoureth in his sight. | |
