THE CHRISTIAN NAVY. Wherein is plainly described the perfect course to sail to the haven of eternal happiness. Written by Anthony Nixon.  Ibi res humanae nunquam prosper succedunt, ubi negliguntur divinae. 
 printer's device of Simon Stafford, featuring the female personification of Opportunity standing on a wheel which floats in the sea (McKerrow 281) 
aut NVNC aut NVNQVAM   
Imprinted at London by Simon Stafford, dwelling in Hosier lane, near Smithfield. 1602.   

To the Right Honourable and most reverend Father in God, John Whit●gift, Archbishop of canterbury, Primate and metropolitan of all England, and one of her majesties most Honourable privy counsel.  

THe stately Eagle in his princely grace,  
Permits the fly to buzz before his face,  
Yet will not move one feather of his wing,  
His weak disturber under foot to bring,  
even so I hope, this work of willing mind  
Such Gracious sufferance in your sight shall find.   

The lowly shrub doth seldom blast, or sade,  
under the Caedars lofty verdant shade:  
The sun gives life as well to simplo weeds,  
As unto flowers, or profitable seeds:  
So may these lines begot by true affection,  
Spring to more height, graced with your safe protection.   
Your Graces in all dutiful observance, Anthony Nixon.   

Libellus ad Lectorem.  

nile moror aut lauds, levis aut conuitia vulgi.  
Pulchrum est vel doct is, vel placuisse piis.  
Spe quoque maius erit nubi si contingat vtrūque:  
cvi Christus sapit, huic si placco, been habet.  
Magnificas Domini sonitat mea linea lauds,  
multorum lugens crimina multa virum.  
front legas hilari, Lector, mecumque precare  
coelesti faustus detur in arce locus.   
A. N.   

THE CHRISTIAN NAUY.  

HE that amid the raging Ocean Seas,  
With sailing bark doth seek the happy Port,  
No leisure hath to give himself to ease,  
Nor respite, for due-season-losing sport;  
Each time-delaying calm doth him displease,  
In nothing joys, in nothing pleasure sinds,  
save in the blasts of prosperous happy winds.   

His careful brain is busied evermore,  
In viewing well his compass and his carded,  
And minding still what dangers lie before,  
What swelling sands, what rocks, what havens bard;  
With skilful head he seeks the safest shore,  
Bringing his bark, through storms and tempests great,  
To happy Port, and long desired seat.   

The vnskilfull head, and reckless idle mind,  
Contrariwise doth give himself to rest,  
Not fearing storms, nor boisterous blasts of wind,  
But in the midst of dangers feareth least,  
And thinks the haven happily to find.  
Thus guided ill, his ship on rocks doth fall,  
And casts away both freight and sole, and all.   

even so the will and fancy of vain man,  
That through this world his painful passage makes,  
Who ought to seek by all the means he can,  
Through dangers great, and loathsome lowering lakes,  
That happy Port, for which his course began,  
In thousand harms and thousand dangers prest,  
Doth give himself to careless ease and rest.   

Regarding not the hazard of himself,  
Nor taking heed his fleshly foist to guide,  
Full fraught with sin, and care of worldly pelf,  
Makes no account of weather, wind, or tide,  
But blindly strikes himself on every shelf,  
Till on the rocks he desperately doth light,  
And loseth all, for want of guiding right.   

Within the seas of fond affection blind,  
That through the world in every place doth flow,  
sails every wight that liveth here by kind,  
And runs the race that Fancy forth doth blow,  
And keeps the course that best doth please his mind:  
But of ten thousand that thus bravely fleet,  
Scarce ten at length do with the haven meet.   

The haven fair I mean of perfect ioy,  
Where chiefest pleasure hath her biding place,  
Where ioy surmounts, where griefs cannot annoy,  
Where lives the King of everlasting grace,  
That well rewards the mind that's well employed,  
And doth condemn to everlasting pain,  
All those that him forsake for pleasures vain.   

The seas be rough, the passage full of pain,  
The dangers great, the journey large and long,  
The Pilots ill, the cost is nothing plain,  
The force but weak, the enemies stowt and strong,  
The lets a number that do us detain:  
The Strayts of Marrock are not half so ill,  
Nor race of britain, nor Charibd, nor Scyll.   

Wherefore in vain we strive without a guide,  
To pass these seas, where thousand dangers bee,  
With rocks and shelves beset on every side,  
Where nought but death the fearful eye can see;  
Now forced with winds, now driven back with tide,  
amazed with mists, and wandring without light,  
Except we find the help of holy spirit:   

Which spirit that in our journey we may haue,  
With humble heart and earnest prayer made,  
With knees bowed down, his aid here let us crave,  
That he vouchsafe to teach us the plain trade  
Of sailing right, and us from danger save:  
With steadfast faith to him thus let us pray,  
That he may guide us through this doubtful way.   

Oh sacred spirit, that all things well dost guide,  
And bring'st each good thought to his good desire,  
And sufferest not an error to abide,  
Whereas it likes thy grace for to inspire,  
That dost for every humble heart provide,  
power down thy grace, direct my feeble hand,  
That I may show where perfect bliss doth stand.   

By thee we may be sure the way to find,  
That leadeth strait to perfect ioy, and bliss:  
By thee we shun the rocks, and dangers blind,  
That make us oft the haven faire to miss:  
Thou onely art the star that guid'st the mind;  
Then give thy light, cast down thy beams from high,  
That I may show which way the course doth lye.   

The wretched Seas of worldly pleasures vain,  
The mischiefs, and the harms that come thereby,  
The flattering shows, that trouble most the brain,  
The noisome lusts, and fancies there that lye,  
That causers are of everlasting pain,  
I will declare, and which way we should run,  
What course to keep, what dangers we should shun.   

Within these Seas, when first we enter in,  
When first to wind our sails committed be,  
When pleasantly on calmed streams we swim,  
A mighty rock we strait at hand may see,  
All massy gold, all decked and garnished trim:  
The compass great with corners out doth lie,  
The height whereof doth reach the starry sky.   

A stately rock beset with Diamonds fair,  
And powldred round about with Rubies read,  
Where Emeralds green do glister in the air,  
With mantle blue of Saphyres overspread,  
Where wants no ston that Nature can repair:  
Another heaven for the time it seems,  
And oft for heaven foolish man it deems.   

With swelling sands it lies encompassed round,  
And many a ragged reach it sendeth out,  
Whereby a thousand thousands haue been drowned,  
Yet never cease they for to sail about,  
In gazing still vpon this gorgeous ground,  
Till on the sands with hasty course they slide,  
And lose themselves vpon this pier of pride.   

No danger greater shalt thou lightly find,  
That more mishap, or mischief more doth make,  
Then this, that plucks away each mortal mind,  
And causeth him contrary course to take:  
Who forward bent with foolish pride-puft wind,  
Forsakes the way, till keel on sands he knock,  
And dasheth all asunder on this rock.   

A wretched rock, that mounting to the sky,  
( Contenting not himself with earthly spoil)  
Once overthrew the Angels sitting hye,  
And cast them head-long from their happy soil,  
To darkest place, where wailing now they lie;  
The chief Estates and Princes here below  
Haue right good cause this dangerous place to know.   

The raging waves do belching upwards cast  
The wretched wracks that round about do fleet:  
The silken sails and glistering golden mast  
lies all to torn and trodden under feet,  
The witless throng of women swarming fast,  
With scarses and feathers like to souldiers dressed,  
With painted haue, and shameless bated breast.   

A monstrous sort of men, there shalt thou see,  
Not men, but monsters sure that beate the face  
Of men, that never can contented bee  
With comely garments meet, but( void of grace)  
Forgetting quiter their ancient old degree,  
To women changed, their manly shapes deface  
With frizzled hair and womanish disgrace,   

With countenance coy, and forehead forced high,  
And staring top, as lately frayed with spirits,  
In rich attire to feed the gazers eye  
That evermore in glistering show delights:  
A sort of beasts, whose chiefest ioy doth lie  
In decking up their carcase trim and gay,  
Which shall be but( at last) for worms a pray.   

As painted tombs, that stinch and filth contain,  
And Arras fair that rotten walls doth hid:  
So do these fools, with all their garments vain,  
And fresh attire dressed up in pomp, and pride,  
Onely nurse up a selfe-beguiling brain:  
For underneath their garments glistering brave  
lie mindes corrupt, as rotten bones in grave.   

A sinful sort that wholly spend their life  
In setting out their earth-bred carcase here,  
Who night and day do pass with care and strife,  
In studying how they fairest may appear:  
And weary soon of fashions old, and rife,  
Disguise themselves in new disguised gear,  
And change their minds as things are changed to wear.   

Fly thou this rock, and take good heed thereto:  
For who so keeps this dreadful dangerous way,  
Will run the race that him will quiter undo,  
And miss the mark by sailing thus astray,  
That should him bring this happy haven to:  
No greater harm can hap to mortal kind,  
Then for to run vpon this danger blind.   

For who so once vpon the same doth fall,  
Forgetteth God, forgets his own estate,  
Of good or virtue makes no count at all,  
So he may live aloft without a mate,  
And for t'attayne a little glory small,  
He nought esteems of mighty jove his wrath,  
Though nought haue greater peril, then Pride hath.   

But to avoyde this rock and hazard great,  
Strike thou thy sails, and bear thy countenance low,  
Shun sumptuous show, regard not Lordly seat,  
Nor to be known: seek rather God to know,  
Who being Lord, and Prince of glory great,  
In poor attire, and simplo show beside,  
Came down from high, to teach us to shun Pride.   

Remember still how that the lofty mindes,  
That in this world do seek to glister so,  
blown on this rock by fond vain glorious winds,  
Fall headlong down to everlasting woe,  
Where no release of torments they shall find,  
But as they wont in colours bright to go,  
So bright in flames of fire shall overthrow.   

Be never proud of what so Nature gives;  
For what she gives, in time she takes away:  
The fairest creature, finest wit that lives,  
In shortest time, we see, doth clean decay;  
Away goeth all, though ne're so sore it grieves.  
What folly then is it to set delight  
On fading smoke, and lose the heauens bright?   

Be lowly-minded, and of humble cheer,  
think glory vnmeet for men of base degree:  
Since God for pride with Angels would not bear,  
Be well assured he will not bear't in thee.  
Too late thou shalt repent, when thou shalt see  
The sober sort to highest heauens fly,  
And thou thyself in fell Auernus lye.   

The grief beside is great of troubled mind,  
That in this world they oftentimes sustain,  
As want of wealth that stop; their fancies blind,  
Whereby they fare like Tantalus in pain:  
When other men they costly clad do find,  
And they cannot attain the self same grace,  
Oh how themselves with griefs they do deface.   

The crystal glass, wherein they wont to prie  
With joyful heart to see their beauty clear,  
gives out a shape unpleasant to the eye,  
Whereas their crabbed countenance doth appear,  
down falls the visage then with heavy cheer,  
And mourning, they from thence apace do go,  
As men amazed with some sudden woe.   

The pleasant famed for ever now is gone,  
That wonted was their ears for to delight,  
Of mark him well, lo, yonder goeth one,  
In whom hath Nature sought to show her might:  
A comelier man you cannot look vpon.  
Now, no such sound, but scorned on every side,  
While each one saith, Behold the end of pride.   

Therefore take heed that in these Seas dost sail,  
Let not this vain delight deceive thy mind,  
But rather strive against it to prevail,  
And seek the channel of lowliness to find,  
Which when thou gett'st, no tempest can thee quail:  
For there is harbour safe for every wight,  
That in this happy channel 'haps to light.   


THis danger past, and left aloof behind,  
Before thine eyes doth strait again appear  
A fowle deformed pile, and hazard blind,  
That casts away all such as travell near.  
A loathsome rock, and hurtful to the mind,  
Deformed to the eye, yet doth 'allure,  
Of earthly men, the earthly minds unpure.   

A dangerous place, that numbers doth destroy  
Of such, as careless are of going right,  
Whose brutish minds haue here no other ioy,  
Then on the dross of earth to set delight.  
This mischief great hurts not the heavenly spirit,  
But greedy mindes and such as are not wise.  
This loathsome place is called avarice.   

A number great of wracks here shalt thou see,  
That thick about this place in thousands swarm,  
That never could alive admonished bee  
For to beware of this so great a harm,  
Nor to eschew this present icoperdy,  
Nor no advice could cause them sail aright,  
Till on this rock they wilfully do light.   

With countenance pale and wan thou shalt behold  
Their carcases consumed unto nought,  
Their wearish limbs with cares congealed could,  
Their blood dried up with sorrow and with thought,  
Their feeble fingers clasping in of gold,  
hanged round about with bags on every side,  
The poised whereof doth cause them there to bide.   

Vpon the sands great caskets heaped lie,  
And coffers stuffed with every kind of coin,  
scraped up by fraud, and filthy usury,  
Now here, now there, wherese're they could pursoyne,  
By force, by fraud, or any villainy:  
They wey not where, or how they do it get:  
For all is fish with them, that comes to net.   

A filthy mind that travels to no end,  
But for to please the still desiring eye,  
esteems no pain, regards no foe, nor friend,  
Helps not himself, nor no man else thereby,  
In sparing joys, and pineth if he spend,  
When by his death he pleasures with his hoard,  
As doth the swine when as he comes to board.   

A brutish sort that never can rejoice  
While here they live, for cark, for fear, or toil,  
Still dreaming that they hear the dreadful voice  
Of thief at hand, or soldier them to spoil,  
Or else of death, that makes of them no choice,  
But rakes them up in earth enclosed deep,  
Where void of gain, and kept for pain, they sleep.   

What profits them their heaps of riches great,  
For which, alive, they took such care, and pain,  
Oft wanting sleep, for bearing often meate,  
With greedy mind t'increase their treasure vain,  
When loathsome worms their carcases shall eat,  
Rung down to hell with cursings of the poor,  
Whose wives and children weeping lie at door?   

What helps the wealth, that doth not serve the need?  
What good doth gold, that doth but feed the eye?  
What gain but grief, haue they for all their mead,  
That labour here for money till they die,  
Which long kept in, is spent at length with speed?  
A goodly thing to pine for riches so,  
And know not who shall haue them, when we go.   

Oh wretched beasts, that never haue an end  
Of this your vile, and covetous desire,  
Why spare you this that other folkes shall spend?  
You toil and moil like Bayard in the mire,  
yourselves to grave before your time you sand,  
Finding at length the fruits of all your gain,  
In broiling flames and never ceasing pain.   

The poor oppressed, whom in this world you pold,  
yourselves shall see to glister in the sky,  
And call, and ball to them for water could,  
To cool your heat in torments, where you lie:  
But all in vain: this you haue been foretold.  
And since by others harms you take not heed,  
Blame but yourselves in like sort if you speed.   

God hath himself declared to you before,  
That even as slow, rich men to heaven do fly,  
And enter in as hardly at the door,  
As doth the camel pass a needles eye.  
Your burden great, extorted from the poor,  
Doth keep you down, the gates are very streghit,  
You cannot enter with so great a weight.   

Your Factors lie not there to answer you,  
Your bill of debt, nor no such other gear,  
Nor by exchange you can haue nothing, due,  
Your double vsance is but single there,  
The trade is changed, the world is altered new,  
Your ten in hundreds scarcely then will mount,  
When for your dealings you shall make account.   

A thousand actions shall be entred there  
Against you, for your fraud and usury,  
And Lawyer none shall show his face for fear:  
Though you retain him with his double fee;  
His Clients cause, and his shall then agree:  
The judge is wise, and easily can espy,  
If fault or fraud do under colours lie.   

With quaking heart, at bar then shalt thou stand,  
Without advice or any other aid,  
Hye holding up thy guilty guilded hand,  
For fear of sentence utterly dismaydes  
Thy whole account shall thoroughly there be scanned,  
And every penny how it hath been spent,  
That unto thee for purpose good was lent.   

Therefore who saileth near this loathsome place,  
Fall off betimes, and keep another way,  
Haue in thy mind the haven faire of grace,  
And from thy compass go not much astray;  
Behold thy carded, and keep a perfect race,  
No anchors here beware that thou do cast:  
For ship and all will soon be laid up fast.   

And if the burden that thou bearest begreat,  
Cast ouer-boord both bag and baggage quiter,  
Let never gold thee of thy joys defeat:  
Safe shalt thou sail and better travell light,  
Then ouer-laden lose the happy seat  
Of rest and bliss, where free and frankest minds  
Do shrowd their ship escaped from greedy winds.   

Well mayst th'imploy the riches here thou hast,  
And please the King, and Lord of glory hye,  
If that thou makest of them no wanton waste,  
Nor scrap'st them up in Coffers close to lie,  
But layest them where they may be safest plaste,  
Vpon poor souls that comfortless remain.  
This is the best, and surest kind of gain.   

How goodly a thing is it for to relieve  
Th'afflicted case of men with need oppressed,  
whom daily cares, and troubled mind doth grieve,  
That scarce can find an hour of quiet rest,  
Whilst thou hast thousands hanging on thy sleeve?  
Remember well, that riches are but lent,  
And nothing ours, but that which is well spent.    


ANother mischief in the way doth stand,  
With ugly show, and vile deformed sight,  
encompassed round with quick and quivering sand,  
That swallows up all such as thereon light:  
Fowle swarms of Serpents crawl on every hand,  
Whose hissing tongues do yield a hurtful noise,  
A loathsome sound, a most unpleasant voice.   

About this rock in every place they crawl,  
And shake their tongues at them that travell by,  
whom envious winds do cause with them to fall,  
And spite compels to run their course awry.  
Most wretched guides to guide a bark withall,  
Who never cease till all be overthrown,  
Till foist and frayght be under surges blown,   

Here poisoned vapours daily do arise,  
And yelling noise, and hateful cry is heard,  
The hellish clouds so daze the sailors eyes,  
That scarce he sees his compass or his card,  
Except he skilful be, and very wise,  
And cast about to meet some better wind,  
That may him bring unto his Port assigned.   

The tide is strong, that runneth thereabout,  
The weather great, that beats vpon the cost,  
The hold too weak, to think to rid it out,  
Whereby at anchor many haue been lost,  
That thought it safe, and made thereof no doubt.  
This harmful place, Detraction hath to name,  
An ancient enemy to the bark of famed.   

Vpon this rock, as lost and cast away,  
All those, whose tongues delight in ill report,  
And make of slanders but a kind of play,  
Wherewith themselves most spitefully they sport,  
spoiling good name and famed of every sort,  
Still charging them with this thing, and with that,  
And oftentimes they wot not well with what.   

Of every man their tongue must run at large,  
Nought can be said, but must their iudgement pass,  
Their oats must be aboard in every Barge,  
With each mans life they mell, and yet( alas)  
Their own is worst, whereof they take no charge:  
But look, in others, what they spy amiss,  
A place at that, with hateful tongue they hiss.   

Whatse're they see, or wear they hear,  
They make much worse then it was said, or ment,  
Their cankered tongues so spiteful do appear,  
That still to ill they change the good intent,  
And make it dark, that of itself was clear:  
What likes them not, must straight dispraised bee:  
Their eyes be dim, they can no virtue see.   

The vertuous't man that can be found alive,  
Cannot escape their spiteful poisoned tongue,  
Although by all the means he can, he strive  
With virtuous life to cease the rumour sprung.  
No virtuous act these wasps away can drive,  
But Harpy-like they file all with their dung,  
Making ill speech their usual Table song.   

Most loathsome fowles that haue no other food,  
But feed vpon the famed of every man.  
A filthy race, a cursed beastly brood,  
Who while themselves no kind of virtue can,  
Yet in their fond and frantic furious mood,  
Their envious hearts are like to break with spite,  
To see that any seek to live upright.   

This wretched sort haue swarmed evermore,  
And haue continued since the world was made,  
increasing still with poison kept in store,  
Haue never ceased their former cursed trade.  
The godliest men in ages here before,  
Do what they could, could not escape the sting  
Of slanderous tongues that more and more did spring.   

Moyses, who meek and virtuous still in spirit,  
deserved well of every kind of man,  
Redressing wrong, and always furth'ring right,  
Of whom a famed through all the world out-ranne,  
In whom th'almighty Lord took great delight,  
Could not escape this cankered currish sort,  
That stayn'd his famed with lewd and ill report,   

Reporting that he wrought by Sorcery,  
Such wonders great as at that time they saw,  
And that he governed all by Tyranny,  
Misvsing men without all right or law,  
Oppressing poor men with extremity,  
inventing a Religion fond, and vain,  
devised onely by his subtle brain.   

The righteous job, that perfect was, and just,  
In whom the devill himself no fault could find,  
That served God with earnest faith and trust,  
Obedient always to his sacred mind,  
despised the world, despised all fleshly lust:  
Yet felt the tongue, and sting of slanderous famed,  
That found in him, things worthy still of blame.   

The holy Prophets, that lived long ago  
Like Gods on earth, with virtue shining bright,  
Who planted virtue, whereas 'vice did flow,  
And on the heauens set their whole delight,  
In teaching men the right way here to go,  
Were oft reuil'd, and counted bad and nought,  
And such as all things out of order brought.   

That happy Messenger of tidings glad,  
That made the heavy heart for to rejoice,  
And cast away their doleful countenance sad,  
revived with his healthful heavenly voice,  
While as he preached with skins of camel clad:  
This cursed sort that all things wrong do wrest,  
Reporteth that the devill him possessed.   

Th'almightie Lord, that down from heaven high,  
Amongst us came, to save such as were lost,  
In whom no sin, nor kind of 'vice did lye,  
All full of grace and of the holy Ghost,  
relieved all that unto him did cry;  
For all his virtue, and his state divine,  
Was called a Glutton, drinker deep in wine.   

What should I call to mind the lewd report  
His good Disciples got for all their pain,  
The infamies that touched that sacred sort,  
That gave their lives t'increase the heavenly reign,  
Who made of cruel torments but a sport,  
The slanderous tongues yet blazed in every place,  
How they nor had religion, God, nor grace?   

What should I tell the canckred carlish spite,  
Shew'd openly at this same present day,  
Of such as boast in Gods behalf to writ,  
Whose devilish tongues their hellish hearts bewray?  
With blasphemies the heauens high they smite.  
iwis, Christ never taught uncourteous style,  
Nor seems a Christian, words so harsh, so vile.   

His spirit was meek, his talk was always mildred,  
With words of comfort evermore he spake,  
All bitter speech from him was quiter exiled.  
Wherefore he bade all his example take,  
And that his children should ill words forsake.  
uncivil speech, rude, void of courtesy,  
savours of hell, and not of heauens glory.   

The Fiends, that low in Pluto's kingdom lye  
Condemned to perpetual pain and shane,  
This cursed speech do use continually,  
And bark and brawl at every virtuous name,  
Accusing still the Saints of God with blame.  
Thus doth hels hateful minister ever teach,  
With cursed speech, and poys'ned tongue to preach:   

For slander there, is counted virtue great:  
In hateful words they most of all delight;  
foul Infamy hath there the chiefest seat,  
Accompanide with malice and with spite,  
Whose hateful show, and euill-abounding sight,  
Repineth still at all men that do well,  
And fearing God, do shun the pit of hell.   

But thou, that seekest the happy heavenly seat,  
keep not this course; Detraction still defy,  
With spiteful tongue do thou no man entreat;  
On others faults haue never too much eye,  
But on thine own, that liu'st in dangers great:  
For why shouldst thou of others babble so,  
When thou thyself hast vices many more?   

Let no mans life by thee defaced be,  
Take not away that thou canst not restore,  
And look what faults in others thou dost see,  
Take heed that in thyself there be not more:  
Report not ill, speak well of each degree:  
Good words are still eternised with famed,  
Whereas ill speech turns to the speakers shane.   

The gentle mind doth plainly represent  
A lively form of God himself on hye,  
Whose gracious will to goodness always bent,  
Delights in mildness and in clemency,  
Who chiefly framed man for that intent.  
But cursed speech this picture out doth race,  
And sets up satan in the selfsame place.   

avoid this danger, further from it fly,  
Let not such mischief thy destruction be,  
For fear of losing all, sail not too nigh:  
The loss is great, some safer shore go see,  
Whereas at anchor thou mayst safely lie.  
In dangers great we may not run at length,  
But rest a while to gather further strength.    


hoist up thy sails, and give them to the wind,  
These dangers past, the fewer do remain:  
Take courage good,& show thy valiant mind,  
And weight that pleasure follows after pain,  
As after troubles quiet rest we find:  
For who so shrinks with painful things to meet,  
Is far unworthy for to taste the sweet.   

sail on thy course, and cast a careful eye  
About thyself within these Seas so tost,  
And ever mark what perils near do lie,  
For fear thy negligence thee dearly cost,  
And shun the place which hath so many crost,  
That carelessly with unadvised mind,  
Haue blindly followed every puffed of wind.   

Before thy face, at hand thou shalt behold  
A foul great Flat, most loathsome for to see,  
All ouer-spred with limbs and bodies could,  
And barks and boats that all to broken be,  
From whence the freight vpon the sands are rolde,  
That sprawling lie vpon this wretched place,  
With pity-pleading look, and woe-worne face.   

About the broken barks do scattered lie  
Great tons of wine, of every kind and sort,  
And sumptuous tables, dishes heaped hye,  
And costly banquets painted with disport,  
The more to please the greedy Gluttons eye.  
No kind of fish or flesh there can be got,  
But may be seen heap't up vpon this plot.   

About these dishes round attending stand,  
Each vile disease that may be named or found:  
The groaning gout, with shackled foot and hand,  
That scarce can stay from falling to the ground:  
The Dropsy pale stands shaking on the sand:  
The fever hot sits gaping here for wind,  
Whose scorched tongue no taste in meate can find.   

Quotidians there, and quartans shalt thou see,  
Now shaking could, now burning all on flamme.  
There painful Collicks, bastard Tertians be,  
And that disease, which jaundice hath to name,  
With many more of this fraternity:  
Whereat physicians often make their wealth,  
More weighing gold, then any Patients health.   

A number great of sicknesses beside,  
Languishing here in deaths pale threatening show,  
May every where about this place be spied,  
That in these full-fed fools do often grow;  
As Pleurisies with torments in the side,  
With falling-sickness that doth foaming lie,  
And Apoplexies, murdering suddenly.   

Most grievous pains, and swimming in the head,  
With Lethargies, forgetting everything,  
And strangling Quinsies, with hote humors fed,  
That many men unto their graues do bring:  
Consuming Ptisicks, lingering long in bed,  
Both ston and Strangury lie here in great pain,  
And many more, that to rehearse were vain.   

This fearful place is called Gluttony,  
Wherein great numbers haue been cast away,  
While as with greedy lust they sailed by,  
And ran their course by negligence astray.  
Shun thou this danger, from this mischief fly:  
Let thousands dying there before thy face,  
Example be for thee to shun this place.   

A wretched 'vice, a sinful crime it is,  
To pamper up the flesh with his delight,  
Whereby more prove it is to live amiss,  
And apt made for to resist the spirit.  
That creature never seeks the place of bliss,  
That studies here his greedy lust to please,  
And to consume his time in rest and ease.   

The flesh will never here subdued bee,  
Nor made obedient to the heavenly mind,  
While as we farce it up in this degree,  
With meats of every dainty sort, and kind.  
These fine-fed folks are bent t'affections blind:  
But few of them that virtuous are and chased,  
Will haue their guts thus inwardly bumbaste.   

As wood heaped up a high vpon the fire,  
Or oil cast in, doth more augment the heat,  
So doth this fond insatiate desire  
Of surfeiting, and cramming in of meate,  
Increase the flamme of lecherous desire.  
The body is unmeet to follow good,  
While as it is so cherished with food.   

The feeble brain with stinking vapours dazed,  
That boiling in the stomach upward rise,  
Astonished, and utterly amazed,  
Cannot aspire unto the hughty skies:  
So weak it is, and so with surfeits crazed,  
That it is not applied the way to find,  
For to restrain th' affections of the mind.   

Oh, what a sort may at this day be found,  
That only give themselves to eat and drink,  
Like brutish beasts, that grazing on the ground,  
Continually on nothing else do think!  
What greater shane to Christians can redound,  
Then thus to feed the paunch excessively,  
That to the soul is such an enemy?   

What folly greater can committed be,  
Then where we here may long time live in health,  
With moderate diet and sobriety,  
All void of sickness, that surmounteth wealth,  
We rather choose to live in misery,  
Esteeming more a graceless pleasure vain,  
Then for to keep our bodies out of pain?   

And whereas Nature doth herself content  
With slender diet, and so most delights,  
Of which God hath sufficient always sent,  
To serve our need, and to refresh our spirits,  
We ceasing not to feed with belly bent,  
Both God displease, and nature quiter destroy,  
And for our labour lose eternal ioy.   

Therefore eschew this beastly greedy mind,  
This gurmandize, this filthy foul delight,  
For brutish beasts, and not for men assigned.  
help not the flesh to overthrow the spirit,  
But help the spirit to daunt affections blind.  
So body and soul shall happily agree,  
To seek the skies, where thou shalt blessed bee.   

eat not too much, but often use to fast,  
Both Nature bids, and Christ commandeth so:  
Our Fathers old that lived in ages past,  
Found great relief by this in present woe,  
Who striving long, thus tamed their flesh at last,  
While as forbearing meate, and sin withall,  
With fervent prayer on God they used to call.   

A virtue great is Abstinence, no doubt,  
Of every man to be esteemed much,  
A helping hand to them that go about  
The sacred skies with heavenly mind to touch:  
No better fence to keep souls enemy out.  
physicians count it Natures chiefest friend,  
And God himself doth highly it commend.    


BEate off therefore, and come not near the place,  
That all embrude with Gluttons blood doth lie,  
Whose souls in hell in miserable case,  
With piteous playnts, and howling noises cry,  
Lamenting sore their former lack of grace.  
When as thou hast escaped this jeopardy,  
Before thy face again thou shalt descry   

A gorgeous Ile, an earthly Paradise,  
Wherein there wants no kind of pleasant sight,  
No glistering show, nor costly fine device,  
That may increase the travelers delight:  
The sight hereof revives the gazers spirit,  
Doth please the eye, and doth 'allure the mind  
Of men that think safe harbour there to find.   

Of compass large, and full of beauty faire,  
The sightly show doth lie before thy face,  
Which seems, as Nature there had set her chair,  
And chosen that her happy resting place:  
From whence there comes a sweet perfuming air,  
With sundry music, yielding heavenly sound,  
That in this place may easily be found.   

The clyeues are hye, and all of crystal shine,  
Vpon the top whereof in order grows  
Hye haughty trees with majesty divine,  
That glistering there far off in shadows shows:  
There stately stands the lofty lordly pine,  
There, groves of myrtles, and of laurel green,  
With hye-topt Caedars fair are to be seen.   

Beyond these same, are mountaines rising hye,  
Clad round about with trees of diuers kind,  
That, placed in order, much delight the eye,  
And thither draw the sailors wandring mind,  
Who think these hills do touch the starry sky:  
There, round about in every place below,  
Faire purple Roses joined with Iasmins grow.   

In every place may beauty there be seen,  
In every place is pleasure for the eye,  
Throughout the woods,& pleasant forrests green,  
Great flocks of birds of every sort do fly,  
Whose curious notes do pierce the azured sky,  
Collauding heauens with skilful melody,  
Agreeing all in perfect harmony.   

No loathsome sight doth any where appear,  
No thing disordered any kind of way:  
But all things shining there with beauty clear,  
Alluring unto sorrow-sending play,  
That they that once do chance to travell near,  
Such pleasure streight way do conceive in mind,  
As no where else, save there, they think to find.   

And round about, in every place they meet,  
With shalles of mermaids swimming here& there,  
Whose beauty great and pleasant singing sweet,  
So daunts the eyes and eats of them that hear,  
That marvell 'tis if they do hold their feet:  
Their beauty's such, their voice doth so delight,  
That with their tongues they conquer every wight.   

Such is the force of this their melody,  
That long time since, and many yeeres ago,  
The wise ulysses, when he passed by,  
Being tost on Seas, and beaten to and fro,  
Desirous for to hear this harmony,  
stopped up his seruants ears with wax, and fast  
caused them to bind himself unto the mast.   

Thus sailing forward, near this pleasant place,  
With wished winds, and all things serving meet,  
These mermaids faire appeared before his face,  
With shining countenance, and voices sweet,  
Their sundry songs they sung with comely grace:  
Their sweet accord, and passing princely sound,  
Did from the waves unto the skies rebound:   

Which sound when as Vlysses streight did hear,  
Could not refrain th'affections of his mind,  
But loud he calls with grief and troubled cheer,  
And wills his men, with hast him to unbind:  
Thus calling out, and crying ne're the near,  
He wrists to be unloosed, but in vain,  
And beats his head against the mast amain.   

His wisdom great could not his fancy guide,  
Nor rule his mind, nor bridle his delight:  
But if at liberty he had been vntide,  
He would haue leap't amid this pleasant sight,  
And left the fruits of pleasure at that tide:  
But so fast bound he could not haue his mind,  
Till sailing past, it was too far behind.   

Yet nevertheless, continually they strive,  
The sailors by, who first may come a-land,  
With all their sails clapped on, apace they drive,  
And haue no fear of any shore, or sand,  
But while they travell on these Seas alive,  
They forward sail with greedy lusting mind,  
Till torments due to their deserts they find.   

Alas, how great, and worthy a company  
Haue here been lost, and clearly cast away,  
Whose wits divine, of worthy memory,  
Are talked on yet until this present day,  
Who had escaped each other misery,  
And with their virtues rare had glistred bright,  
If that they could haue shunned this fowle delight?   

The mighty Herc'les that lived long ago,  
Whose worthy acts deserved immortal famed,  
Who spent his dayes in anguish and in woe,  
Not bent to pleasure, nor inclined to game,  
But followed virtue, which he sought for so,  
Could not escape this heartbreak vain delight,  
But crost himself for lack of due foresight.   

The subtle wit, and iudgement so profound,  
That painted virtue lively to the eye,  
Who shew'd the harms and hurts of 'vice unsound,  
And opened plain the place whereas they lie:  
The self same man, that once such favour found  
At Delphos, that he got the sovereignty,  
Yet ran vpon this danger passing by.   

A thousand such in Stories old we find:  
Of sundry like our sacred Volumes tell,  
That ran amiss vpon this fancy blind,  
For lack of good advice, and guiding well:  
Yea, though they wholly did apply their mind  
To every virtue, yet did this way stray:  
Example, he, with Vryes wife that lay.   

Amongst the dangers of these harmful Seas,  
No peril like to these there comes in sight,  
That more doth work the passengers disease,  
Or drives them more to show their force and might,  
Nor no men more th'Almightie Lord displease.  
Wherefore we ought with heed, and careful eye,  
With might and main, from lusts delights to fly,   

And often weigh the mischief that will rise,  
If we do leave our happy course to keep,  
For vain delight, that here deludes the eyes,  
And bringeth men in restless rest asleep.  
Nay, rather let us flattering shows despise,  
Which for a little trifling pleasure vain,  
Do bring us unto everlasting pain.   

Direct thy ship and course another way;  
Remember stil how happy they shall be,  
That haue not fallen vpon this Ile astray,  
Where fleshly joys and foolish fancies bee:  
But do themselves with all their might assay,  
To put away each storm and troublous wind,  
That blows contrary to their virtuous mind:   

And weigh the pains and torments they shall haue,  
That give themselves to follow fowle delight,  
And break the laws, that God to all men gave,  
How they shall wail, and howl in piteous plight,  
When that their body's seu'red from their spirit:  
Which spirit shall never feel release of pain,  
As long as God doth in the heauens reign.   

Although the motions of the flesh be much,  
And that our nature herein bears some sway:  
Yet ought the force of reason to be such  
In man, as well may put such toys away.  
The mind divine must not so basely touch,  
But mount aloft with wings unto the skies,  
Where perfect ioy, and perfect pleasure lies.   

For earthly joys and fancies are unmeet  
For such as God appoynts with him to live,  
Who ought t'al and on all such pleasures sweet,  
As use whereof may them offend, or grieve:  
Not every show, nor every path beleeue:  
But onely walk in that appointed way,  
That God himself before thine eyes doth lay:   

And fly the paths, although they pleasant seem,  
That he hath here forbidden to be trode,  
And cast away all fond affections clean,  
The weight whereof the soul so sore doth load,  
That languishing vpon the earth with thirteen,  
constrained is there for to dwell and lie,  
And never can aspire to heauens hye.   

And as ulysses passing by this place,  
Where mermaids flock, whereof is spoken before,  
( Whose sugared songs, and loue-pretending face,  
Did seek to train him to that deadly shore)  
Withstood( by wise advice) their flattering lore,  
Causing his men to bind him to the mast,  
Whereby that danger graciously he past:   

So in these Seas of pleasures, lest we quail,  
We ought to bind our wils to Reason strong,  
As to the mast, that bears our chiefest sail,  
And guides us best throughout this journey long:  
For so we shall escape this deadly song,  
That hath bewitched so many virtuous ears,  
And brought them unto torments and to tears.   

But if there do such punishment remain  
For those, which( while they virtuous seek to be)  
do fall into this lake of pleasures vain,  
Whereby they come to greatest misery,  
Condemned unto never-ceasing pain,  
Shut out from that faire-shining beauty bright,  
That far surmounts all other kind of sight:   

If those( I say) such torments haue to taste,  
What plagues are due unto that sinful sort,  
That both with mind unclean, and tongue unchaste,  
Of loathsome 'vice make but a play and sport?  
And where they ought not spend a word in waste,  
They utter out the filthiest words they can,  
Without respect of either God or man,   

Contenting not themselves with wicked deeds  
Alone, to pass away their sinful race:  
But with such words as filthily proceeds  
From out their hearts, defiling every place.  
As noisome weeds the freshest flowers deface:  
So do these beasts with tongue and talk unclean,  
Defile each thing that fairest may be seen,   

With words unseemly, that uncleanness sound,  
These harlot-hunters do themselves delight,  
Corrupting minds that otherwise were sound,  
With speech unpure, and wanton gesture light,  
Wherein they're skilled, as in their arte profound:  
Their shameless tongues, while as their acts they tell,  
do cause the devill himself to blushy in hell.   

Most wretched men, that led your lives with shane,  
And die like beasts, in miserable plight:  
The pains of hell is end of all your gain.  
Each damned soul shall feel his torment light,  
Respecting yours, who for your foul delight,  
far pass them all in torments and in pain:  
This is your end, and your assured gain.   

Let this suffice to give thee warning here,  
That saylest near this care-procuring place,  
Although the beauty fair at first appear,  
Thou seest the end, how in most wretched case  
They plagued are, and buy their pleasure dear.  
Then leave betimes, and sail another way.  
It is not good with dangers for to play.   

And take good heed: for streight before thy face,  
Amid these Seas, another danger lies,  
That bearing up his head a little space,  
above the water, oft deceives the eyes,  
By which a number haue complaynd their case.  
The show is small, that doth appear on hye:  
The chiefest harm doth under water lie.    


THe top whereof is smoothly polished,  
And doth not threaten hazard with the show,  
By which haue many been seduced and lead  
To travell near, the state thereof to know;  
Who with their ships haue but in ill sort sped,  
Being all to torn a pieces, forced to fly,  
Their masters sprawling on the surges hye.   

The lustiest sailors haue been drowned here,  
Whose barks haue born the bravest port on Seas,  
For manly show, and stomacks void of fear,  
While as they sailed which way them best did please,  
Who counsel none, nor no advice would hear,  
Still trusting to their own deceived wit,  
From whose selfe-wil they would not stir a whit:   

Nor cast they here themselves away alone,  
But cause great numbers more their course to miss,  
persuading them, that near unto this ston  
Doth lie the way to everlasting bliss,  
Assuring them that danger there is none:  
By which vain words they cause the simplo men  
To cast away themselves by following them.   

This dangerous place that hath so many lost,  
And thus beguiled, is called Heresy:  
A hurtful place, a most pernicious cost,  
A woeful rock, a wretched jeopardy,  
And hurts the navy of Christianity:  
Which gorgeous fleet had long time since been drent,  
If mighty jove had not them succour lent,   

Who pitying them of his accustomed grace,  
When as they were with storms and tempests tost,  
And even at point to fall vpon this place,  
Whereas they had been altogether lost,  
Lamenting, as it were, their wretched case,  
Rebuk't the winds, and took the helm in hand,  
And brought them safe unto th'assured land.   

A happy guide in these so dreadful Seas,  
Whose blessed aid if all men erst had sought  
With humble mind, in seeking him to please,  
And setting all their own device at nought,  
They had not purchased thus their own disease,  
Nor had they left behind them such a famed,  
As hitherto the world resounds with shane.   

Cerinthus had not cast himself away  
Vpon this rock, in such lamented plight:  
Nor Eutyches had past this wretched way,  
If serving God had been his chief delight:  
Nor had novatus on this mischief light,  
Nor Arrius with his Arrians here had dide,  
Nor all the swarm of Manicheyes beside;   

With thousands more, that here I loath to name,  
Who might haue scap't this dreadful place full well,  
That brought them unto everlasting shane,  
And threw them headlong to the pit of hell,  
Whereas they wail in never-ceasing flamme,  
If they had sought this safe-assured aid,  
And unto him for help had always prayed.   

Take thou good heed, that trauellest hereby,  
Lest that thou fall vpon this hurtful place:  
Beware of schism: Beware of heresy,  
And pray to God continually for grace,  
That he may keep thee from this misery,  
In giuing thee a quick and watchful eye,  
Whereby thou mayst such covert dangers fly.   

look well about, and trust not every spirit,  
That seems to teach the safe-assured way,  
Be well assured he teach the way aright,  
Or walk nor thou else, after him astray.  
The devill himself can seem an angel bright.  
But Christ hath left you here his Scriptures plain,  
A touch-stone true to try Religion vain.   

By these examine every prating spirit,  
By these go try what unto thee is taught,  
Let these be judge who teacheth wrong or right,  
Let these discern the good things from the nought,  
Of these in darkness borrow all thy light:  
So shalt thou able be thyself to try,  
Where shadows false, and where deceit doth lie.   

Beleeue not those same slanderous mouths untrue,  
Who make report, how that the books divine  
Corrupted are with false translations new:  
Onely of malice they do thus repined;  
They see the Spirit of God will them subdue:  
And therefore for to bring them in contempt,  
These slanderous lies maliciously th' invent.   

As he that late such needless pains did take,  
In culling out the faults he could spy,  
Of every tittle strait account doth make,  
In noting where he thinks they run awry.  
Yet if thou shalt his worthy iudgement try,  
Thou well shalt see, his folly-full-fed brain  
Hath taken all his travell here in vain.   

Beside, another mark there is to know  
These wretched spirits, that lead men thus to hell:  
Though clad in pelts of sheep, they simplo show,  
And many tales of God and heaven tell,  
Yet malice doth their minds so overflow,  
Their bloody teeth do still appear in sight,  
Wherewith like wolves continually they fight.   

Example one, amongst a number more,  
Let Arrius be, who, whilst he here did reign,  
Of torments great, and tortures had much store,  
Wherewith he put true Christians still to pain,  
With sundry deaths, not heard of oft before,  
As splintars sharp of Reeds, which sore did prick,  
As twixt the nails and flesh the same did stick.   

That devilish mind that reigneth now in hell,  
Doth still envy the happy state of man;  
And since the time that first to earth he fell,  
He laboureth by all the means he can,  
To cause them all in pains with him to dwell,  
Continuing still with rancour and with heat,  
To persecute that happy heavenly seat.   

Chrysostome he, that long ago hath tried  
These brittle Seas, and preached every place,  
Who had good proof of every wind and tide,  
And well could sail to find the port of grace,  
declared which way these people might be spied,  
And gave plain token how we well should know  
These Barks of schism that on these Seas do row:   

Did ever yet( saith he) the simplo sheep  
With bloody mouth the greedy wolf pursue?  
Not once: But ravening wolves do never sleep  
From hunting them: So Cain poor Abel slay:  
Not Abel him: So ishmael Isaac true  
Did persecute: not Isaac him. The jew  
Thus troubled Christ; and heretics, Christians true.   

Thus plainly did this skilful Father old  
Conclude, that such as bear such hateful mind  
Against the flock, and happy harmless fold  
Of Christ, still following them with malice blind,  
To be the wolves, of whom our saviour  told.  
The wolf by raueuing evermore is' tried.  
The heretic by cruel mind is spied.   

Then since thou mayst full well discern this ill,  
sail far from hence, and steer advisedly,  
And guide thyself by good and careful skill;  
So shalt thou miss this fearful jeopardy.  
give not the reins and bridle unto will,  
But make it subject to the motions hye,  
That thou mayst save thyself, and dangers fly.    


YEt once again thou needst to take good heed:  
For hereabouts an island fair doth lie,  
That to the sailors mischief great doth breed,  
That flames far off, like Phoebus in the sky.  
Which glistering sight the gazers mind doth feed,  
persuading them some worthy sight is there,  
That so encompassed is with shining clear.   

In every place pyramids here rise,  
With costly stones compact of gorgeous show,  
Whose stately tops do seem to touch the skies:  
The bases square are framed fair below,  
With such proportions as best please the eyes,  
Adorned brave with Torches flaming bright,  
That seem to spoil the day itself of light.   

A thousand Altars garnished here do stand,  
With cloth of gold, and purple passing fair,  
And fires burning high on every hand,  
Where Incense cast, doth cause a pleasant air;  
And thither blinded men make their repair.  
On every Altar Images appear,  
Of sundry gods, that people worship there.   

There Saturne stands with envious countenance sad,  
And next to him hath jupiter his place,  
And Venus smiling fair with beauty glad,  
And fuming Mars with hote and fiery face,  
And Dian with her siluer-shining grace:  
Swift Mercury amongst them here doth stand,  
With flickring wings, and golden rod in hand.   

Great Bacchus here is placed with majesty,  
And near to him Dame Ceres may be seen,  
And proserpina that low beneath doth lie,  
And juno once of heaven counted queen,  
And Berecynthya, mother of the sky:  
Here Castor joined with Pollux fair doth stand,  
And Esculapius with his Snakes in hand.   

On other Altars joining thereto near,  
A number great of pictures placed be,  
That monstrous to the lookers on appear;  
As one, that pourtrayde is with faces three,  
Another holding in his hand a three,  
And wading over riuers easily,  
With monstrous legs,& shoulders shameful hye.   

But most of all, that makes men there to muse,  
There stands a Saint in strange disguised sort,  
To take't for man or woman, you may choose:  
For of them both it seems to bear a port,  
Arrayde in gowns, as women most do use,  
And thus disguised in strange and masking coats,  
esteems no other offering here, then oats.   

A number great of such strange pictures vain  
Here mayst thou see, of whom it needs not tell,  
That unto Priests haue always been a gain,  
And lead such as them worshipped, unto hell;  
Here are the Saints to whom the turk doth yell:  
As Vanus and Sedichasis, that victory doth bring,  
With Mircichinus and Ascichum,& Chiderell the King.   

Before each image, Tapers burning bright,  
And Odours sweet do fume continually,  
The people kneeling round about in sight,  
With hands held up, and voices loud do cry;  
each one complaining of his wretched plight,  
do call vpon their gods with fervent mind,  
Supposing thus a perfect help to find.   

This dangerous place is called Idolatry,  
Whereon are lost the Turks and Pagans all,  
That hither still in swarming flocks do fly,  
Not fearing mischief that may them befall:  
And numbers great of Christians here do die,  
That leaving Christ, to idols fast do sing,  
Which is detested of th' Almighty King:   

For nothing doth so much the mind offend  
Of that most sacred majesty divine;  
Nor nothing makes him more his plagues to sand,  
Then when he sees his seruants to decline  
From serving him, to seek another friend:  
This more doth him displease assuredly,  
Then any whore doom, theft, or robbery.   

Him liketh to be worshipped alone,  
With earnest mind, and with unfeigned heart:  
Who worships him, must worship others none.  
It is not meet for any to give part  
Of honour due to him, unto a ston:  
For who so doth, shall feel his torments due,  
For worshipping false gods, and gods untrue.   

This only cause did make him oft forsake  
His chosen flock, the ancient Israelites,  
Who, though with mouth he often to them spake,  
appointing to them sacred laws and rites,  
Yet evermore his ord'nances they broke:  
In every grove, on every wood and hill,  
They Idols placed contrary to his will:   

For which, he often gave them over quiter  
Into the hands of cruel enemies,  
Who dealt with them in payne-inflicting plight,  
Vexing them still with fearful tyrannies,  
compelled to suffer thousand cruelties,  
Accounted slaves and abjects clearly lost,  
That erst of all men were esteemed most.   

For this, poor Christians oftentimes haue felt  
The usage vile, and force of Turkish hands,  
That many yeeres haue with them evil dealt,  
depriving them of children, wife, and lands,  
Since first of idols they the service smelled,  
decayed their virtues, lost their ancient famed,  
And made them to the world an open shane.   

Therefore beware, and shun this filthy place.  
Let Paul thy Pilot be vpon these Seas,  
Who saith, Idolaters shall not the face  
Of God, or see, or find the Port of ease:  
For Idole-seruers are deprived of grace:  
Such kind of seruants onely he desires,  
As seek to serve him as himself requires.   

All other service he esteems as vain;  
And most he hates such fond religion blind,  
As is devised by dream of foolish brain:  
That worship onely doth delight his mind,  
That he himself hath taught in Scriptures plain:  
He suffers not to honour this or that;  
But plainly hath himself appoynted what.   

serve thou him therefore, as he liketh best;  
With all thy heart, with all thy mind him love;  
Let him be highest always in thy breast:  
Take heed that none be placed him above.  
esteem no creature so above the rest,  
That love thereof shall him from thee remove:  
For that he doth in all his word reprove.   

Not onely Image-seruers haue the name  
Of blind Idolaters, but every such,  
That inwardly with fervent love doth flamme,  
Esteeming fading fancies here, too much,  
Preferring them before all fear, or shane:  
These kind of loues, when in the heart they lie,  
Are surest signs of vile Idolatry.   

far off from this see therefore that thou fly,  
If thou intend the haven fair to find:  
For who so toucheth on this same, shall die,  
In suffering shipwreck, through his folly blind.  
keep then the joyful haven still in mind,  
Whose pleasures great shall fully thee reward,  
For all thy pains, and all thy travels hard.    


ANother danger lies there in the way,  
That seemeth good and safe unto the eye,  
Whereat a number great of ships do stay,  
That here are lost, or put in jeopardy,  
With colour false of good it doth betray,  
And most allures such men as seek for famed:  
Hypocrisy this mischief hath to name.   

A rock but soft and simplo to the eye,  
That pleaseth much the mind of worldly sight,  
Whereas deceit doth closely covered lie,  
Which hindereth men from traveling aright:  
Vpon the top whereof in open place,  
There stands an Image covered all of ston,  
That there was placed many yeeres ago.   

Which Image here I would describe to thee,  
But that long since it hath been painted plain  
By learned Chancer, gem of Poetry,  
Who past the reach of any English brain:  
A folly therefore were it here for me,  
To touch that he did often use to say,  
Writ in the Romant of his Roses gay.   

ANother thing was done, they writ,  
That seemed like an Hypocrite,  
And it was cleeped Pope holy,  
That ill is she that privily,  
Ne spareth never a wicked dead,  
When men of her taken none heed,  
And maketh her outward precious,  
With pale visage, and piteous,  
And seemeth a simplo creature:  
But there nys no misadventure,  
That she ne thinketh in her courage.  
Full like to her was thilke Image,  
That maked was byt her semblance,  
She was full simplo of countenance,  
And she was clothed and eke shod,  
As she were for the love of God,  
Youlden to Religion,  
Such seemed her devotion.  
A Psalter held she fast in hand,  
And busily she 'gan to fond,  
To make many a faint prayer  
To God, and to his Saints dear.  
Ne she was gay, fresh, and iolliff,  
But seemed to be full intentiff  
To good works, and to faire,  
And thereto she had on a hair,  
Ne certes she was fat nothing,  
But seemed weary for fasting:  
Of colour pale, and dead was shee,  
From her the gates ay warned be,  
Of paradise, the blissful place.  
For such folk maked lean their grace,  
As Christ saith in his Euangile,  
To get their praise in town a while,  
And for a little glory vain,  
They leesen God, and eke his reign.   

THus hath the golden pen of Chaucer old,  
The Image plain described to the eye:  
Who passing by long since, did it behold,  
And took a note thereof advisedly,  
And left the same to his posterity,  
That each man passing by, might plainly know  
The perfect substance of that flattering show.   

An enemy great unto the Christian fleet,  
It this fowle rock of false hypocrisy,  
That us depriveth of the pleasure sweet,  
And brings our souls to greatest misery:  
A 'vice unmeet for Christianity.  
Eschew it then, and far off from him fly,  
Let not such blind affections blear thine eye.   

seek rather good to be, then good to seem;  
seek so to live, as thou dost here profess:  
So shall both God and man thee best esteem;  
So shalt thou perfect Christian life express.  
What good doth it, when men thee godly deem?  
Although thou mayst dissemble for a while,  
Yet God thou canst not long time thus beguile.   

His eye doth still discern thy inward thought;  
Thy secret dealings well he doth behold,  
And all thy deeds in hucker-mucker wrought,  
At length before the world he shall unfold:  
To what a misery shalt thou then be brought,  
When all thy filthy vices there shall smoke,  
That here were hidden under godly cloak?   

Christ hath us taught for to abhor this crime,  
When as he cursed the Scribes and pharisees,  
Who seemed the godliest livers at that time,  
All garnished outward with Hypocrisies,  
As though they daily staff by staff did climb,  
By godly life to reach the haughty skies,  
Whereas their hearts were full of villaynies.   

Oh, what a number at this present day,  
do swarm in every town, in every place,  
That, God be thanked, and God be praised, can say,  
With gesture mildred, and feigned godly grace,  
Who crouching low before men, fast can pray!  
And yet for all this show and goodly gear,  
deceitful knaves at length they do appear,   

Beguiling men, that put in them their trust,  
Oppressing poor men by sinister ways,  
Without all conscience, words and deeds unjust;  
Yet would they seem, as though they God did praise;  
Whereas( in dead) these cursed castaways  
do never worship any God in mind,  
But always serve their own affections blind.   

Oh, sinful men, what mean you thus to deal  
So covertly before the face of God?  
Be well assured you cannot long conceal;  
Be well assured you cannot scape his rod;  
Your wretched deeds in time he will reveal,  
When as your masking garments, so long worn,  
Shall all be rent, and from your shoulders torn.   

Your painted vizard shall be plucked away,  
Wherewith so many here you did deceive,  
And all your curious counterfeit array,  
You shall be forced, against your will, to leave:  
Those purple garments, which make you so gay,  
Shall off be plucked, and all things else beside,  
And then the bare-arst Ape shall plain be spied.   

sail thou not near this cursed wretched place,  
That seekst the happy haven for to find;  
Cry out to God, and call for better grace;  
Commit thy sails unto a better wind;  
Eschew the look of false dissembling face:  
So shalt thou sooner find the Port of bliss,  
Which cursed Hypocrites shall surely miss.    


advance thy tops, hang out thy Flags abroad,  
The greatest danger thou hast trauel'd by,  
And near thou art unto the happy Road:  
The other perils in the way that lie,  
May well be past, and well be ouertrode:  
For none do perish here in any place,  
But such as are both void of wit and grace.   

Cast fear away, and take a lusty heart;  
revive thy spirit with gladness, and with ioy;  
cheer up thy mind, and comfort every part;  
remove each grief, that may thy sense annoy:  
For near unto the haven now thou art,  
Whereas thou shalt th'Almightie Father see,  
The spring and head of all felicity.   

Although these dangers hereabouts that lie,  
do never hurt the godly careful mind:  
Yet for their safeties that shall travell by,  
I briefly will declare their names and kind,  
That sooner so they may such mischiefs fly,  
And keeping still the safe-assured Seas,  
They may the readier find the Port of ease.    


THe first, and worst of these same dangers great,  
Is Blasphemy, a black sin-spotted crime,  
Which barketh still against the heavenly seat,  
And most offends the majesty divine,  
With fearful oaths, sworn out in furious heat;  
Of Reprobates the most assured token,  
Whereby the wrath of God is still prouoken.    


NExt this, hath churlish Cruelty the place,  
A mischief that doth hellish minds assail  
With ghastly countenance, and death-boding face,  
Whereon a number great of ships do quail,  
That wanting gentle winds, all void of grace,  
Vpon this danger hastily do light,  
And never find the blissful haven bright.    


THen Hatred shows his hurtful head aloft,  
A cankered harm, contagious unto many,  
Which overthrows the subtle sailor oft,  
And drowpeth deep the spiteful company;  
Who while they deem the bed of Hatred soft,  
do rest themselves vpon this misery,  
Brought here asleep by envious heart-swolne folly.    


here murder, all embrude with blood doth stand,  
That gives unto the eye a fearful sight,  
On top whereof, with shaking sword in hand,  
Is Fury placed, a terrour-threatning spirit,  
Who suffers none t'attayne the happy land,  
That once vpon this mischief 'haps to light,  
Or is possessed with murther-causing spite.    


hereby stands Theft, a deep sin-swallowing ill,  
That doth 'allure the greedy graceless mind,  
trained up from youth in witless wretched will;  
And Robbery sister to this 'vice by kind,  
May here be seen about her swarming still:  
These lusty bloods that here at anchor lie,  
Will sooner find a pound, then lose a penny.    


NOt far from hence stands sinful Sorcery,  
A mischief founded by the devill first,  
With charms, Enchantments, and Astrology,  
The practisers whereof are all accursed.  
And joined with this, stands Infidelity:  
The one deems, all things by the stars are done:  
The other thinks, that all at randon run.   

To this apace our learned Masters hye,  
That teach us what shall happen year by year,  
And what sore plagues are threatened from the sky,  
As famine, warres, and other piteous gear.  
Great clerks( forsooth) and such as seldom lie,  
Who fain would be esteemed cunning men,  
While as they steal the fruits of others pen.    


NOw last of all, two dangers great appear,  
between the which thou canst not choose but run.  
Therefore thou must look circumspecty here,  
As other sailors heretofore haue done.  
sail just between them both, sail not too near  
To any of them: for strong the tide doth run,  
And often drives the heedelesse barks thereon.   

The one of them with lofty look doth rise,  
And seems to touch the place where Saints do dwell;  
All black the other lies before the eyes,  
The platform plain, and Image right of hell.  
There shalt thou hear continual shrieks and cries  
Of damned souls, that woefully do yell,  
Whose loathsome shapes no mortal tongue can tell.    


PResumption hath the one of these to name,  
That makes men like their doings here too well,  
The other Desperation full of blame,  
That throws men headlong to the pit of hell:  
Two mischiefs great, that mans destruction frame.  
These are the hurts that in these Seas do lie:  
Regard them well, and shun them warily.    


remaineth nothing for thee now behind,  
But gracious marks that led the sailor right,  
That comfort much the godly virtuous mind,  
And teach them to find out the Port of light,  
( The chiefest succour for the weary spirit.)  
For who so runs by these, shall never miss  
The haven fair of everlasting bliss.   

The foremost of these sure and happy guides,  
Is earnest Prayer, that gives a goodly show,  
And keepeth safe the bark from troublous tides,  
That moved with hellish tides, contrary flow.  
In safety here the wandring vessel rides.  
Though devill, world, and flesh against it strive,  
Yet under sail it safely here may drive.   

A thousand happy hands may here be seen,  
Held up with heart vnfeyn'd unto the skies,  
washed in the waters of Repentance clean,  
And purged pure with tears of weeping eyes:  
A thousand tongues, from minds that well do mean,  
yield up to God their wont suits, and cry  
At morn, at noon, at night, continually.    


THe next, is Peace, a qulet happy place,  
Whereas no strife nor rankour can be found.  
Rest thou thy bark within this Road of grace,  
And travell for to touch vpon this ground.  
They always come to God, that run this race,  
For those that here most peaceably remain,  
Haue daily traffic with the heavenly reign.    


HEreby doth love, another beauty, stand,  
That brings thee streight unto the Road of rest,  
And pointeth out directly with her hand,  
The perfect way, by which thou mayst be blessed.  
No harmful Boat may ever here take land,  
But onely those that please th'Almighties will.  
This love doth all the hests of God fulfil.    


NExt, Mercy stands, a virtuous work and plain,  
That leadeth streight unto the blissful port,  
And is possessed of the heavenly train,  
And most frequented of the godly sort:  
To which our saviour did the Iewes exhort,  
Assuring those that mercy shew'd to men,  
That mercy should be shew'd again to them.    


NOt far from hence, may Patience be seen,  
The bulwark strong against all injury,  
The sovereign Lady, and victorious queen,  
In troubles toils, and worldly misery,  
The buttresse chief of Christianity:  
By which, the souls of virtuous men haue sailed,  
That never yet in storm or tempest quail'd.    


here lively faith may well discerned be,  
The Channel safe that leads to heavenly bliss,  
Whereby the Fathers old attaynd to see  
The haven fair of perfect happiness:  
This made the Martyrs flamme in such degree,  
By which they knew, assuredly to find  
The blissful place conceived in their mind.   

These are the marks whereby thou must take heed;  
By these thou mayst thyself in voyage guide,  
If that thou seekest happily to speed,  
And pass the Flats, and scape the raging tide:  
Vpon this course the holiest haue agreed:  
No other way they here haue left behind,  
Whereby we may the heavenly Harbour find.   

sail therefore as the perfect course doth lie,  
And run the race that is to thee assigned:  
For whoso runneth otherwise awry,  
The haven faire of bliss shall never find,  
But drowned in Seas, for evermore shall die:  
Where they that keep the course that Christ hath taught,  
Shall unto everlasting joys be brought.   

Here would I plain set out before thine eyes  
This happy place, wherein thy bark shall rest,  
What show it hath, and in what sort it lies;  
But that it can by no man be expressed.  
That place of ioy above the starry skies,  
By any wit cannot be thoroughly scanned,  
Nor can be blazed by any mortal hand.   

The joys are such, as cannot here be  told,  
No pen can paint, nor tongue can tell the kind,  
The gorgeous sight, that Saints shall here behold,  
Surmounts the reach of any earthly mind,  
And all the pleasures in this world we find:  
No eye hath seen, nor ear hath ever heard,  
The joys, that are for godly men prepared.   

Apply thy mind to seek this happy place,  
Put all thy strength, and all thy force thereto;  
Call unto God continually for grace;  
As Christ hath taught, seek always so to do;  
Set always him, and his before thy face:  
So thou thyself with eyes shalt plainly see,  
What joys, what pleasures are prepared for thee.    
FINIS.