FLEE from the press, and dwell with soothfastness;
Suffice thee thy good, though it be small;
For hoard hath hate, and climbing tickleness,* *instability
Press hath envy, and *weal is blent* o’er all, *prosperity is blinded*
Savour* no more than thee behove shall; *have a taste for
Read* well thyself, that other folk canst read; *counsel
And truth thee shall deliver, it is no dread.* *doubt
Paine thee not each crooked to redress,
In trust of her that turneth as a ball; <2>
Great rest standeth in little business:
Beware also to spurn against a nail; <3>
Strive not as doth a crocke* with a wall; *earthen pot
Deeme* thyself that deemest others’ deed, *judge
And truth thee shall deliver, it is no dread.
What thee is sent, receive in buxomness;* *submission
The wrestling of this world asketh a fall;
Here is no home, here is but wilderness.
Forth, pilgrim! Forthe beast, out of thy stall!
Look up on high, and thank thy God of all!
*Weive thy lust,* and let thy ghost* thee lead, *forsake thy
And truth thee shall deliver, it is no dread. inclinations*
*spirit