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FOR
fewe nyghtes solace in delitious bedd,
where heate of luste, dyd kyndle
flames of hell:
thou nak'd on naked rocke in desert cell
lay thirty yeares, and teares of griefe dyd shedd.
But for that tyme, thy hart there sorrowed,
thou now in heaven
æternally dost dwell,
and for ech teare, which from thyne eyes then fell,
a sea of pleasure now ys rendered.
If short delyghtes, entyce my hart to straye,
lett me by thy longe pennance learne to knowe
how deare I should for triflyng pleasures paye:
And if I vertues roughe beginnyng shunne,
Lett thy æternal ioyes vnto me showe
what hyghe Rewarde, by lyttle payne
ys wonne.
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