Whom by no tale to dread he could divert from sin, The conscience unquiet he strikes with heavy hand, And proves their force in faith, whom he sware to defend.

Butter falls not so soft as doth his patience long,

And overpasseth fine oil running not half so smooth. But when his sufferance finds that bridled wrath

provokes,

His threatened wrath he whets more sharp than tool can file.

Friar! whose harm and tongue presents the wicked sort,

Of those false wolves, with coats which do their ravin hide;

That swear to me by heaven, the footstool of the

Lord,

Though force had hurt my fame, they did not touch my life.

Such patching care I loath, as feeds the wealth with

lies;

But in the other Psalm of David find I ease.

Jacta curam tuam super Dominum, et ipse te enutriet.

PSALM VIII.

Thy name, O Lord, how great, is found before our

sight!

It fills the earth, and spreads the air: the great works of thy might!

For even unto the heavens thy power hath given a

place,

And closed it above their heads; a mighty, large,

compass.

Thy praise what cloud can hide, but it will shine

again:

Since young and tender sucking babes have power to shew it plain.

Which in despight of those that would thy glory

hide,

[Thou] hast put into such infants' mouths for to confound their pride.

Wherefore I shall behold thy figur'd heaven so

high,

Which shews such prints of divers forms within the cloudy sky:

As hills, and shapes of men; eke beasts of sundry

kind,

Monstrous to our outward sight, and fancies of our

mind.

And eke the wanish moon, which sheens by night

also;

And each one of the wandering stars, which after

her do go.

And how these keep their course; and which are those that stands;

Because they be thy wondrous works, and labcurs of thy hands.

But yet among all these I ask, 'What thing is

man?'

Whose turn to serve in his poor need this work

Thou first began.

Or what is Adam's son that bears his father's mark? For whose delight and comfort eke Thou hast wrought all this work.

I see thou mind'st him much, that dost reward him so:

Being but earth, to rule the earth, whereon himself

doth go.

From angel's substance eke Thou mad'st him differ

small;

Save one doth change his life awhile; the other not

at all.

The sun and moon also Thou mad'st to give him

light;

And each one of the wandering stars to twinkle 'sparkles bright.

The air to give him breath; the water for his health; The earth to bring forth grain and fruit, for to increase his wealth.

And many metals too, for pleasure of the eye; Which in the hollow sounded ground in privy veins

do lie.

The sheep to give his wool, to wrap his body in; And for such other needful things, the ox to spare

his skin.

The horse even at his will to bear him to and fro:

And as him list each other beast to serve his turn

also.

The fishes of the sea likewise to feed him oft;

And eke the birds, whose feathers serve to make his sides lie soft.

Or whose head thou hast set a crown of glory too, To whom also thou didst appoint, that honour should

be do.

And thus thou mad'st him lord of all this work of

thine;

Of man that goes, of beast that creeps, whose looks doth down decline;

Of fish that swim below, of fowls that fly on high,
Of sea that finds the air his rain, and of the land

so dry.

And underneath his feet, Thou hast set all this same; To make him know, and plain confess, that marvellous is thy name.

And, Lord, which art our Lord, how marvellous it is found

The heavens do shew, the earth doth tell, and eke the world so round.

three;

Glory, therefore, be given to Thee first, which art [degree: And yet but one Almighty God, in substance and As first it was when Thou the dark confused heap, Clotted in one, didst part in four; which elements we clepe:1

And as the same is now, even here within our time; So ever shall hereafter be, when we be filth and

2

slime.

1 We call.

2 MS. And.

THE SECOND BOOK OF VIRGIL'S ENEID

THEY whisted all, with fixed face attent,
When prince Æneas from the royal seat
Thus gan to speak. O Queen! it is thy will
I should renew a woe cannot be told:

How that the Greeks did spoil, and overthrow
The Phrygian wealth, and wailful realm of Troy:
Those ruthful things that I myself beheld;
And whereof no small part fell to my share.
Which to express, who could refrain from tears?
What Myrmidon? or yet what Dolopes?
What stern Ulysses' waged soldier?

And lo! moist night now from the welkin falls;
And stars declining counsel us to rest.
But since so great is thy delight to hear
Of our mishaps, and Troyè's last decay;
Though to record the same my mind abhors,
And plaint eschews, yet thus will I begin.

The Greeks' chieftains all irked with the war
Wherein they wasted had so many years,
And oft repuls'd by fatal destiny,

A huge horse made, high raised like a hill,
By the divine science of Minerva:
Of cloven fir compacted were his ribs;
For their return a feigned sacrifice