XXII. John Davies

HOW neede the soule to stand vpon her guard,

And keep the tempter at the sp’rit’s sword point!

Else pride will puffe her, sith so well she far’d,

Which swelling will runne downe from ioynt to ioynt,

That she will burst, if grace her not annoynt.

This found he true, that found this true repast

In the third heau’n, as God did fore-appoint:

Yet must he buffets with such banquets taste,

Lest he should be puft vp, and so disgrac’d.

For our soule’s foe extracts ill out of good,

As our soule’s friend doth draw good out of ill.

The foe can foile, if he be not withstood,

With pride our piety and our good-will.

But our best friend, though we offend him still,

From these offences drawes humilitie;

Which makes vs crouch, and kneele, and pray, vntill

He doth commiserate our misery:

This doth our friend, vnlike our enemie.

The soule cannot her fondnesse more bewray,

Then when she doth temptations strong resist:

For like as when our pulses strongly play,

We know we neede not then a Galenist;

So when the soule doth paint, striue, and persist

In strugling with temptations, then we kno

That soule with perfect health is truly blest:

For she by demonstration it doth sho;

And blest are all those soules that striueth so.