He thynketh that there is no god aboue Nor nobler place than is this wretchyd grounde Nor goddes power suche neyther fere nor loue With whom all grace and mercy doth abounde Whiche whan hym lyst vs wretches may confounde Alas what auayleth to gyue instruction To suche lewde folys of this condycion. It nought auayleth vnto them to complayne Of theyr blyndnes, nor enfourme them with vertue Theyr cursed lyfe wyll by no mean refrayne Their viciousnes, nor their erroure eschewe But rather stody theyr foly to renewe Alas what profytis to suche to expresse. The heuenly ioy, rewarde of holynesse. Alas what auayleth to suche to declare The paynes of hell, wo dissolate and derke No wo nor care can cause suche to beware From their lewde lyfe corrupt and synfull warke What profyteth sermons of any noble clarke Or godly lawes taught at any Scolys For to reherse to these myscheuous folys. What helpeth the Prophetis scripture or doctryne Unto these folys obstynate and blynde Their hertis ar harde, nat wyllynge to enclyne To theyr preceptis nor rote them in theyr mynde Nor them byleue as Cristen men vnkynde For if that they consydred heuen or hell They wolde nat be so cursed and cruell And certaynly the trouth apereth playne That these folys thynke in theyr intent That within hell is neyther car nor payne Hete nor colde, woo, nor other punysshement Nor that for synners is ordeyned no turment Thus these mad folys wandreth euery houre Without amendement styll in theyr blynde erroure Before thy fete thou mayst beholde and se Of our holy fayth the bokys euydent The olde lawes and newe layde ar before the Expressynge christes tryumphe right excellent But for all this set is nat thyne intent Theyr holy doctryne to plant within thy brest Wherof shold procede ioy and eternall rest Trowest thou that thy selfe wyllyd ignoraunce Of godly lawes and mystycall doctryne May clense or excuse thy blynde mysgouernaunce Or lewde erroure, whiche scorne hast to inclyne To theyr preceptis: and from thy synne declyne Nay nay thy cursed ignoraunce sothly shall Drowne thy soule in the depe flodes infernall Therfore let none his cursydnes defende Nor holy doctryne, nor godly bokes dispyse But rather stody his fawtes to amende For god is aboue all our dedes to deuyse Whiche shall rewarde them in a ferefull wyse With mortall wo that euer shall endure Whiche haue dyspysyd his doctryne and scripture BARCLAY TO THE FOLYS. Out of your slomber folys I rede you ryse. Scripture dyuyne, to folowe and inbrace Be nat so bolde it to leue nor dispyse But you enforce it to get and purchase Remember mannys consort and solace. Is holy closyd within the boke of lyfe Who that it foloweth hath a speciall grace But he that doth nat a wretche is and caytyfe * * * * * Of folys without prouysyon.