The starres pure light, the spheres swift movëment,
The spirites and intelligences fayre,
And angels waighting on th'Almighties chayre. 510

And there, with humble minde and high insight,
Th'eternall Makers maiestie wee viewe,
His love, his truth, his glorie, and his might,
And mercie more than mortall men can vew.
O soveraigne Lord, O soveraigne happinesse, 515
To see thee, and thy mercie measurelesse!

Such happines have they that doo embrace
The precepts of my heavenlie discipline;
But shame and sorrow and accursed case
Have they that scorne the schoole of arts divine, 520
And banish me, which do professe the skill
To make men heavenly wise through humbled will.

However yet they mee despise and spight,
I feede on sweet contentment of my thought,
And please my selfe with mine owne self-delight, 525
In contemplation of things heavenlie wrought:
So, loathing earth, I looke up to the sky,
And being driven hence, I thether fly.

Thence I behold the miserie of men,
Which want the blis that wisedom would them breed.
And like brute beasts doo lie in loathsome den 531
Of ghostly darkenes and of gastlie dreed:
For whom I mourne, and for my selfe complaine,