That salvage nature seemed not to have,
Nor after greedie spoyle of blood to crave: 565
Two fairer beasts might not elswhere be found,
Although the compast* world were sought around.
[* _Compast_, rounded.]

But what can long abide above this ground
In state of blis, or stedfast happinesse?
The cave in which these beares lay sleeping sound
Was but earth, and with her owne weightinesse 571
Upon them fell, and did unwares oppresse;
That, for great sorrow of their sudden fate,
Henceforth all worlds felicitie I hate.

Much was I troubled in my heavie spright, 575
At sight of these sad spectacles forepast,
That all my senses were bereaved quight,
And I in minde remained sore agast,
Distraught twixt feare and pitie; when at last
I heard a voyce which loudly to me called, 580
That with the suddein shrill I was appalled.

"Behold," said it, "and by ensample see,
That all is vanitie and griefe of minde,
Ne other comfort in this world can be,
But hope of heaven, and heart to God inclinde; 585
For all the rest must needs be left behinde."
With that it bad me to the other side
To cast mine eye, where other sights I spide.