LXVII. G. B.

WHO seekes to tread that happie path

That leades to perfite blisse,

And faine would finde the certayne way

That many wandring misse;

Must banish ease, and bend himselfe

To abyde both care and paine,

And seeke to conquer eche delight

And worldly pleasure vaine.

For as the way but narrow is

That leadeth straight to ioy,

So is it all beset with thornes

And briers that anoy.

In euerie place are stubbles and prickes,

That stayes the feeble feete;

And lothsome for the time it seemes,

That after prooues most sweete.

A feareful hart refuseth quite

To walke that painefull way;

But carefull mindes regarde not paine,

Such pleasure to assay.