By her foly and folysshe hardynes She causeth men to ryse ayenst theyr lorde She is the cause of mortall heuynes Whan she doth breke the good concorde Wherfore me thynke by one accorde For to exyle her it is now the best Than man sholde lyue in peas and rest And where she sayd that she exalted Iulius cesar by her grete exylence In that case she ryght clerely varyed For it was I by my grete dylygence That neuer was out of his presence But ruled hym and made hym worthy To be chosen emperour of all Italy Chosen he was by the comyn assent For the grete wysedome that in hym shone With a grete voyce and a hole entente For lyke vnto hym was there none That was so abell as he alone For to occupye an Emperours dygnyte Of his promocyon he myght thanke me I Sapyence am endewed with grace And the lode sterre of heuenly doctryne The sprynge of comfort Ioye and solace Who that lyst to me for to enclyne He shall knowe thynges that be dyuyne And at his ende beholde the deyte That is one god and persones thre It pleased the fader that is omnipotent His sone to send to be incarnat Of the vyrgyn Mary the sterre moost excellent Mayden and moder yet not vyolate Lyke a vessell chosen and made ornat All onely for to be goddys moder And he hym selfe vnto man broder But a stryfe there was bytwene god and man Whan man consented to synne dedely By that the dyscorde fyrst began Whan he the sone of god on hy That is his brother agayn wyll crucefy Yf he had power by whiche is offended The fader of heuen as is entended Therfore lete vs to our brother go Named Ihesu Cryst and axe hym mercy With a good entent and hert also There is for vs none other remedy That ony tonge truely can specyfy And he wyll take it for a correccyon And of all vengeaunce sease the affeccyon That we may of hym haue forgyuenes Of our grete synne with reformacyon Of peas bytwene the faders hyghenes Of heuen and vs in suspyracyon Therfore yf thou drede the amocyon Of his ryghtwysnes loke that thou flee Ryght fast vnto his mercyfull pyte For his mercy is more than all our mysery And eke aboue his werkes all As Dauyd sheweth in his prophecy Saynge his mercy is ouer all To whom I pray euer in especyall To gyue me grace well my penne to lede That quaketh aye for drede Dame Sapyence sayd I do procede Of the strength of the holy ghoost That is and shall be mater in dede God and lorde of myghtys moost Whose infynall power was neuer lost And yet neuer had no begynnynge But alway lyke stronge without endynge Where that dame hardynes in her pledynge Made her selfe to knyghtes moost necessary By the meanes of her power shewynge That I by ryght do now well deny For in that case she dyd moche vary For syxe there are that more profyte be Of whiche the lest is better than she