XIV. Robert Pricket

ALL sorts can prate, and talke of things divine,

In fewe or none a righteous life doth shine;

What Adam lost, all human race did lose,

And what he kept, that for our part we choose:

Will to do good, that force in Adam died,

Since when that grace was to his seed denied.

So in ourselves since every action staines,

That to do good in us no power remaines,

We are restored by our Redeemer’s hand;

Not of ourselves, but by His grace we stand.

Then let the soules of righteous men expresse,

That in their Christ doth live their righteousness.

Who to good fame by golden steps can mount

Him doth this world for worthiest man accompt;

Let vertue in a poor man cleerly shine,

A guilded gull is counted more divine.

A sattin sute, bedawb’d with silvered lace,

Beyond desert doth vildest clownship grace.

Honest, if poore, he this reward must have,

Hang him—base rogue, proud beggar, impious knave!

Rich let him be, and who can hurt him then?

Knaves wrapt in wealth are counted honest men.