Looking to outward things, I found Not that which Sorrow might abate, But rather cause them to abound Then any Greife to mittigate Which made me seek by supplicacion Internall Peace and Consolacion Calling to mind their wretchednesse That seem to be in happy case Having externall happinesse But therewithall no inward grace; Nor are their minds with knowledg pollisht In such all vertues are abollisht For where the mind ’s obscure and dark There is no vertu resident, Of goodnesse there remaines no spark; Distrustfullnesse doth there frequent For Ignorance the cause of error May also be the cause of terror As doth the Sun-beames beutify The Sky, which else doth dim appeare So Knowledg doth exquisitly The Mind adorn, delight and cleare Which otherwise is most obscure, Full of enormities impure. So that their Soules polluted are That live in blockish Ignorance. Which doth their miseries declare And argues plainly that their wants More hurtfull are then outward Crosses Infirmities, Reproach, or Losses. Where saving Knowledg doth abide, The peace of Conscience also dwels And many Vertues more beside Which all obsurdities expels, And fils the Soule with joy Celestiall That shee regards not things Terrestiall. Sith then the Graces of the Mind Exceeds all outward Happinesse, What sweet Contentment do they find Who are admitted to possesse Such matchlesse Pearles, so may we call them; For Precious is the least of all them. VVhich when I well considered My greife for outward crosses ceast, Being not much discouraged Although afflictions still encreast, Knowing right well that Tribulacion No token is of Reprobacion. Another Song.