Wherfore let hym that is discrete and wyse This wrathfull vyce exyle out of his mynde And yll on none by malyce to surmyse Let charyte in perfyte loue the bynde Sue hir preceptis than shalt thou consort fynde Loue in this lyfe, and ioy whan thou art past Where as enuy thy conscyence shall blynde And both they blode and body mar and wast * * * * * Of impacient Folys that wyll nat abyde correccion. [Illustration: Unto our Folys shyp let hym come hastely Whiche in his Bagpype hath more game and sport Than in a Harpe or Lute more swete of melody I fynde vnnumerable Folys of this sort Whiche in theyr Bable haue all they hole confort For it is oft sayd of men both yonge and olde A fole wyll nat gyue his Babyll for any golde] The grettest synners that man may se or fynde In myserable Folys theyr foly to expres Is whan they wyll by no mean gyue theyr mynde To frendly wordes, to grace or to goodnes Suche folys so set theyr mynde on frowardnes That though one gyue them counsell sad and wyse They it disdayne and vtterly despyse But he that is discrete sad and prudent Aplyeth his mynde right gladly to doctryne He hereth wyse men, his wysdome to augment He them doth folowe and to theyr wordes enclyne But that fole whiche ay goeth to ruyne. And mortall myschefe had leuer be dede or slayne Than byde correccyon or for his profyte payne Suche haue suche pleasour in theyr mad folysshe pype That they dispyse all other melody. They leuer wolde dye folys than: byde a strype For theyr correccyon and specyall remedy And without dout none other Armony To suche folys is halfe so delectable As is their folysshe bagpype and theyr babyll These frantyke folys wyll byde no punysshement Nor smale correccion, for theyr synne and offence No frendly warnynge can chaunge theyr yll intent For to abyde it, they haue no pacyence. They here no wysdome but fle from hir presence And so it hapnyth that in the worlde be Mo folys than men of wyt and grauyte O mortall fole remember well what thou art Thou art a man of erth made and of clay Thy dayes ar short and nede thou must depart Out of this lyfe, that canst thou nat denay Yet hast thou reason and wyt wherby thou may Thy selfe here gyde by wysdome ferme and stable Wherby thou passest all bestis vnreasonable Thou art made lorde of euery creature All thynge erthly vnto thyne obedyence God hath the creat vnto his owne fygure Lo is nat here a great preemynence God hath also gyuyn vnto the intellygence And reason and wyt all foly to refuse. Than art thou a fole that reason to abuse He that is fre outher in subieccion. If by his foly he fall into offence And than submyt hym vnto correccyon. All men shall laude his great obedyence But if that one by pryde and insolence Supporte his faute and so bere out his vyce The hell tourmentis hym after shall chastyce