The Affectionate Shepherd | Page 7

body, blacke of minde,
Vertue we seldome in white habit finde.
Oh, then be not so proud because th' art fayre,
Vertue is onely the
ritch gift of God:
Let not selfe-pride thy vertues name impayre,

Beate not greene youth with sharpe repentance rod:
A fiend, a
monster, a mishapen divel;
Vertues foe, vyces friend, the roote of
evill.
Apply thy minde to be a vertuous man;
Avoyd ill company, the
spoyle of youth;
To follow vertues lore doo what thou can,

Whereby great profit unto the ensuth:
Reade bookes, hate ignorance,
the foe to art,
The damme of errour, envy of the hart.
Serve Jove upon thy knees both day and night,
Adore his name above
all things on earth;
So shall thy vowes be gracious in his sight,
So
little babes are blessed in their birth:
Thinke on no worldly woe,

lament thy sin,
For lesser cease, when greater griefes begin.
Sweare no vaine oathes, heare much, but little say,
Speake ill of no
man, tend thine owne affaires;
Bridle thy wrath, thine angrie mood
delay,
So shall thy minde be seldome cloyd with cares:
Be milde
and gentle in thy speech to all,
Refuse no honest gaine when it doth
fall.
Be not beguild with words, prove not ungratefull,
Releeve thy
neighbour in his greatest need,
Commit no action that to all is hatefull,

Their want with welth, the poore with plentie feed:
Twit no man in
the teeth with what th' hast done;
Remember flesh is fraile, and hatred
shunne.
Leave wicked things, which men to mischiefe move,
Least crosse
mis-hap may thee in danger bring:
Crave no preferment of thy
heavenly Jove,
Nor anie honor of thy earthly king:
Boast not
thyselfe before th' Almighties sight,
Who knowes thy hart, and anie
wicked wight.
Be not offensive to the peoples eye,
See that thy praiers harts true
zeale affords,
Scorne not a man that's falne in miserie,
Esteeme no
tatling tales, no babling words;
That reason is exiled alwaies thinke,

When as a drunkard rayles amidst his drinke.
Use not thy lovely lips to loathsome lyes,
By craftie meanes increase
no worldly wealth;
Strive not with mightie men (whose fortune flies),

With temp'rate diet nourish wholesome health:
Place well thy
words, leave not thy frend for gold;
First trie, then trust, in ventring
be not bold.
In Pan repose thy trust; extoll his praise,
(That never shall decay, but
ever lives):
Honor thy parents (to prolong thy dayes),
Let not thy
left hand know what right hand gives:
From needie men turne not thy
face away,
Though charitie be now yclad in clay.

Heare shepheards oft (thereby great wisdome growes),
With good
advice a sober answere make:
Be not remoov'd with every winde that
blowes,
(That course doo onely sinfull sinners take):
Thy talke will
shew thy fame or els thy shame;
(A pratling tongue doth often
purchase blame.)
Obtaine a faithfull frend that will not faile thee,
Think on thy mother's
paine in her child-bearing;
Make no debate, least quickly thou
bewaile thee,
Visit the sicke with comfortable chearing:
Pittie the
prisner, helpe the fatherlesse,
Revenge the widdowes wrongs in her
distresse.
Thinke on thy grave, remember still thy end,
Let not thy
winding-sheete be staind with guilt;
Trust not a fained reconciled
frend,
More than an open foe (that blood hath spilt):
(Who tutcheth
pitch, with pitch shalbe defiled),
Be not with wanton companie
beguiled.
Take not a flattring woman to thy wife,
A shameles creature, full of
wanton words,
(Whose bad, thy good, whose lust will end thy life,

Cutting thy hart with sharpe two edged knife):
Cast not thy minde on
her whose lookes allure,
But she that shines in truth and vertue pure.
Praise not thyselfe, let other men commend thee;
Beare not a flattring
tongue to glaver anie;
Let parents due correction not offend thee;

Rob not thy neighbor, seeke the love of manie;
Hate not to heare
good counsell given thee,
Lay not thy money unto usurie.
Restraine thy steps from too much libertie,
Fulfill not th' envious
mans malitious minde;
Embrace thy wife, live not in lecherie;

Content thyselfe with what fates have assignde:
Be rul'd by reason,
warning dangers save;
True age is reverend worship to thy grave.
Be patient in extreame adversitie,
(Mans chiefest credit growes by

dooing well).
Be not high-minded in prosperitie;
Falshood abhorre,
no lying fable tell.
Give not thyselfe to sloth, (the sinke of shame,

The moath of time, the enemie to fame).
This leare I learned of a bel-dame Trot,
(When I was yong and wylde
as now thou art),
But her good counsell I regarded not,
I markt it
with my eares, not with my hart.
But now I finde it too-too true (my
sonne),
When my age-withered spring is almost done.
Behold my gray head, full of silver haires,
My wrinckled skin, deepe
furrowes in my face,
Cares bring old age, old age increaseth cares;

My time is come, and I have run my race:
Winter hath snow'd upon
my hoarie head,
And with my winter all my joyes are dead.
And thou love-hating boy, (whom once I loved),
Farewell, a
thousand-thousand times farewell;
My teares the marble-stones to
ruth have moved;
My sad complaints the babling ecchoes tell:
And
yet thou wouldst take no compassion on mee,
Scorning that crosse
which love hath laid upon mee.