Such mercy he by his most holy reede* Unto us taught, and, to approve it trew, Ensampled it by his most righteous deede, Shewing us mercie, miserable crew! That we the like should to the wretches shew, 215 And love our brethren; thereby to approve How much himselfe that loved us we love. [* _Reede_, precept.] Then rouze thy selfe, O Earth! out of thy soyle*, In which thou wallowest like to filthy swyne, And doest thy mynd in durty pleasures moyle**, 220 Unmindfull of that dearest Lord of thyne; Lift up to him thy heavie clouded eyne, That thou this soveraine bountie mayst behold, And read, through love, his mercies manifold. [* _Soyle_, mire.] [** _Moyle_, defile.] Beginne from first, where he encradled was 225 In simple cratch*, wrapt in a wad of hay, Betweene the toylfull oxe and humble asse, And in what rags, and in how base aray, The glory of our heavenly riches lay, When him the silly shepheards came to see, 230 Whom greatest princes sought on lowest knee. [* _Cratch_, manger.] From thence reade on the storie of his life, His humble carriage, his unfaulty wayes, His cancred foes, his fights, his toyle, his strife, His paines, his povertie, his sharpe assayes, 235 Through which he past his miserable dayes, Offending none, and doing good to all, Yet being malist* both by great and small. [* _Malist_, regarded with ill-will.] And look at last, how of most wretched wights He taken was, betrayd, and false accused; 240 How with most scornfull taunts and fell despights, He was revyld, disgrast, and foule abused; How scourgd, how crownd, how buffeted, how brused; And, lastly, how twixt robbers crucifyde, With bitter wounds through hands, through feet, and syde! 245 Then let thy flinty hart, that feeles no paine, Empierced be with pittifull remorse, And let thy bowels bleede in every vaine, At sight of his most sacred heavenly corse, So torne and mangled with malicious forse; 250 And let thy soule, whose sins his sorrows wrought, Melt into teares, and grone in grieved thought. With sence whereof whilest so thy softened spirit Is inly toucht, and humbled with meeke zeale Through meditation of his endlesse merit, 255 Lift up thy mind to th’author of thy weale, And to his soveraine mercie doe appeale; Learne him to love that loved thee so deare, And in thy brest his blessed image beare. With all thy hart, with all thy soule and mind, 260 Thou must him love, and his beheasts embrace; All other loves, with which the world doth blind Weake fancies, and stirre up affections base, Thou must renounce and utterly displace, And give thy self unto him full and free, 265 That full and freely gave himselfe to thee.