Lo, this is the gyse now a dayes!It is to drede, men sayes,1230Lest they be Saduces,[1434]As they be sayd sayneWhiche[1435]determyned[1436]playneWe shulde not ryse agayneAt dredefull domis day;And so it semeth[1437]they play,Whiche hate to be correctedWhan they be infected,Nor wyll[1438]suffre this bokeBy hoke ne[1439]by croke1240Prynted for to be,For that no man shulde seNor rede in any scrolles[1440]Of theyr drunken nolles,Nor of theyr noddy polles,Nor of theyr sely soules,Nor of some wytles patesOf dyuers great estates,As well[1441]as other men.Now to withdrawe my pen,1250And now a whyle to rest,Me semeth it[1442]for the best.The forecastell of my shypShall glyde, and smothely slypOut of the wawes wodOf[1443]the stormy flod;Shote anker, and lye at rode,And sayle not farre abrode,Tyll the cost be clere,And[1444]the lode starre appere:1260My shyp nowe wyll I stere[1445]Towarde the porte salu[1446]Of our Sauyour Jesu,Suche grace that he vs sende,To rectyfye and[1447]amendeThynges that are amys,Whan that[1448]his pleasure is.Amen![1449]In opere imperfecto,In opere semper perfecto,Et in opere plusquam perfecto![1450]1270
Lo, this is the gyse now a dayes!It is to drede, men sayes,1230Lest they be Saduces,[1434]As they be sayd sayneWhiche[1435]determyned[1436]playneWe shulde not ryse agayneAt dredefull domis day;And so it semeth[1437]they play,Whiche hate to be correctedWhan they be infected,Nor wyll[1438]suffre this bokeBy hoke ne[1439]by croke1240Prynted for to be,For that no man shulde seNor rede in any scrolles[1440]Of theyr drunken nolles,Nor of theyr noddy polles,Nor of theyr sely soules,Nor of some wytles patesOf dyuers great estates,As well[1441]as other men.Now to withdrawe my pen,1250And now a whyle to rest,Me semeth it[1442]for the best.The forecastell of my shypShall glyde, and smothely slypOut of the wawes wodOf[1443]the stormy flod;Shote anker, and lye at rode,And sayle not farre abrode,Tyll the cost be clere,And[1444]the lode starre appere:1260My shyp nowe wyll I stere[1445]Towarde the porte salu[1446]Of our Sauyour Jesu,Suche grace that he vs sende,To rectyfye and[1447]amendeThynges that are amys,Whan that[1448]his pleasure is.Amen![1449]In opere imperfecto,In opere semper perfecto,Et in opere plusquam perfecto![1450]1270
Lo, this is the gyse now a dayes!It is to drede, men sayes,1230Lest they be Saduces,[1434]As they be sayd sayneWhiche[1435]determyned[1436]playneWe shulde not ryse agayneAt dredefull domis day;And so it semeth[1437]they play,Whiche hate to be correctedWhan they be infected,Nor wyll[1438]suffre this bokeBy hoke ne[1439]by croke1240Prynted for to be,For that no man shulde seNor rede in any scrolles[1440]Of theyr drunken nolles,Nor of theyr noddy polles,Nor of theyr sely soules,Nor of some wytles patesOf dyuers great estates,As well[1441]as other men.Now to withdrawe my pen,1250And now a whyle to rest,Me semeth it[1442]for the best.The forecastell of my shypShall glyde, and smothely slypOut of the wawes wodOf[1443]the stormy flod;Shote anker, and lye at rode,And sayle not farre abrode,Tyll the cost be clere,And[1444]the lode starre appere:1260My shyp nowe wyll I stere[1445]Towarde the porte salu[1446]Of our Sauyour Jesu,Suche grace that he vs sende,To rectyfye and[1447]amendeThynges that are amys,Whan that[1448]his pleasure is.Amen![1449]In opere imperfecto,In opere semper perfecto,Et in opere plusquam perfecto![1450]1270
Lo, this is the gyse now a dayes!
It is to drede, men sayes,1230
Lest they be Saduces,[1434]
As they be sayd sayne
Whiche[1435]determyned[1436]playne
We shulde not ryse agayne
At dredefull domis day;
And so it semeth[1437]they play,
Whiche hate to be corrected
Whan they be infected,
Nor wyll[1438]suffre this boke
By hoke ne[1439]by croke1240
Prynted for to be,
For that no man shulde se
Nor rede in any scrolles[1440]
Of theyr drunken nolles,
Nor of theyr noddy polles,
Nor of theyr sely soules,
Nor of some wytles pates
Of dyuers great estates,
As well[1441]as other men.
Now to withdrawe my pen,1250
And now a whyle to rest,
Me semeth it[1442]for the best.
The forecastell of my shyp
Shall glyde, and smothely slyp
Out of the wawes wod
Of[1443]the stormy flod;
Shote anker, and lye at rode,
And sayle not farre abrode,
Tyll the cost be clere,
And[1444]the lode starre appere:1260
My shyp nowe wyll I stere[1445]
Towarde the porte salu[1446]
Of our Sauyour Jesu,
Suche grace that he vs sende,
To rectyfye and[1447]amende
Thynges that are amys,
Whan that[1448]his pleasure is.
Amen![1449]
In opere imperfecto,
In opere semper perfecto,
Et in opere plusquam perfecto![1450]1270