Aboute the world all-most eternallie;
Lette his owne werkys prayse hym and magnifie;
I dare not preyse, for fere that I offende,
My lewde langage shuld rather appeyre than amend.

[58]

Lo, my childe, thes good faders Au[=n]cient
Repide the feldis fresshe of fulsumnesse,
The floures feyre they gadderid vp and hent, 402
Of siluereus langage the tresoure and richesse;
Who wolle hit haue, my litle childe, doutelesse
Must of hem begge, ther is no more to say,
For of our_e_ toung they were bothe locke and key.

[59]

There can no man ther_e_ fames nowe disteyne,
Thanbawmede toung and aureate sentence,
Men gette hit nowe by cantelmele, and gleyne 409
Here and there wyth besy diligence,
And fayne wolde riche the crafte of eloquence;
But be the glaynes is hit often sene,
In whois feldis they glayned haue and ben_e_. 413


[Sidenote: _Hill's Text._]

¶ But his werkes his lavde must nede co_n_quere;
_the_i may never owt of reme_m_bravnce dye;