My noble sones, and eek my lordes dere, I, your fader called, unworthily, Sende un-to you this litel tretys here Writen with myn owne hand full rudëly; Although it be that I not reverently 5 Have writen to your estats, yet I you praye, Myn unconning taketh benignëly For goddes sake, and herken what I seye. I complayn sore, whan I remembre me The sodeyn age that is upon me falle; 10 More I complayn my mispent juventè The whiche is impossible ayein to calle. But certainly, the most complaynte of alle Is for to thinke, that I have been so nyce That I ne wolde no virtue to me calle 15 In al my youthe, but vyces ay cheryce. Of whiche I aske mercy of thee, lord, That art almighty god in majestè, Beseking thee, to make so even accord Betwix thee and my soule, that vanitè 20 Of worldly lust, ne blynd prosperitè Have no lordship over my flesshe so frele. Thou lord of reste and parfit unitè, Put fro me vyce, and keep my soules hele. And yeve me might, whyl I have lyf and space, 25 Me to conforme fully to thy plesaunce; Shewe upon me th'abundaunce of thy grace, In gode werkes graunt me perséveraunce. Of al my youthe forget the ignoraunce; Yeve me good wil, to serve thee ay to queme; 30 Set al my lyf after thyn ordinaunce, And able me to mercy, or thou deme! My lordes dere, why I this complaint wryte To you, alle whom I love entierly, Is for to warne you, as I can endyte, 35 That tyme y-lost in youthe folily Greveth a wight goostly and bodily, I mene hem that to lust and vyce entende. Wherfore, I pray you, lordes, specially, Your youthe in vertue shapeth to dispende. 40 Planteth the rote of youthe in suche a wyse That in vertue your growing be alway; Loke ay, goodnesse be in your exercyse, That shal you mighty make, at eche assay, The feend for to withstonde at eche affray. 45 Passeth wysly this perilous pilgrimage, Thinke on this word, and werke it every day; That shal you yeve a parfit floured age. Taketh also hede, how that these noble clerkes Write in hir bokes of gret sapience, 50 Saying, that fayth is deed withouten werkes; So is estat withoute intelligence Of vertue; and therfore, with diligence, Shapeth of vertue so to plante the rote, That ye therof have ful experience, 55 To worship of your lyfe and soules bote. Taketh also hede, that lordship ne estat, Withoute vertue, may not longe endure; Thinketh eek how vyce and vertue at debat Have been, and shal, whyles the world may dure; 60 And ay the vicious, by aventure, Is overthrowe; and thinketh evermore That god is lord of vertue and figure Of al goodnesse; and therfore folowe his lore.