Their deeds in effect, my life would have  
Their words do pretend, my living to crave  
Their deeds I dread not, their words being such  
I dread and regard, in manner as much.   

My life is but vile, I esteem as light  
Then should I in goods, or living delight  
Whom matters and deeds, nought moveth at all  
Should wind and vain words, his courage appall.   

Not man unto man, can threaten I wot  
More grievous than death, the horrible lot  
And be it that death, by sentence of man  
I suffer and that, well suffer I can.   

What should I regard, this transitory state  
Regard and think on, both early and late  
I must a new life, that ever shall last  
Subject to no death, no sickness, no waste.   

Than welcome be death, the entry of life  
And dew to the world, the stage of all strife  
Life lost in this wise, relevyth again  
For ever in bliss, to live without pain.   

From hence and herein, my comfort and stay  
Reposed I have, that can not decay  
God grant me such loss, that raiseth this gain  
God grant me that death, such life to retain.   

In mean time and space, say properly this  
I may and in place, Vana salus hominis.  
☞ Stephen Wynton. ☜    


YOur deeds in effect, that made your life brave  
Hath caused your words, the truth to deprave  
Your deeds ye forget not, your words being such  
You drive on and dread not, all men see to much.   

Your life hath been lewd, which ye esteem light  
Of force to leave goods, no thank to go quite  
Though matters and deeds, nought move you at all  
Let God and his threats, your stoutness appall.   

For man unto man, can nought threat ye wot  
More grievous than death, that horrible lot  
But if ye have death, that justice give can  
dread then your deserts, and blame ye not man.   

amend and repent, your stobourne estate  
That truth hath near tried, but almost to late  
A patarne most popish, from first to the last  
As wilful, as witty, which want worketh waste.   

I doubt the welcome of death, to that life  
plase for Pope's pageants, in stage of moche strife  
Life lost in this wise, relevyth again  
As he that from bliss, returneth to pain.   

From hence and herein, your comfort and stay  
Reposed you have, which needs must decay  
If God for this loss, do grant ye dew gain  
God shield ye from death, such life to retain.   

In mean and space, our prayer is this  
As we may in place, God turn to his.  
☞ H. S. ☜