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Thomas Lodge - Broadview Press Publisher's Blog

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850<br />

855<br />

860<br />

865<br />

That whilst I traffic in this world of woes,<br />

My soul no more in lusts may be entrapped.<br />

Great are my faults, Oh me, most wilful witted:<br />

But if each one were just, there were no place<br />

To show thy power that sins might be remitted.<br />

Let then, O Lord, thy mercy quite displace,<br />

The lewd and endless sins I have committed,<br />

Through thine unspeakable and endless grace.<br />

The Second.<br />

Such dark obscured clouds at once encumbered<br />

My mind, my heart, my thoughts from grace<br />

retired<br />

With swarms of sins that never may be<br />

numbered,<br />

That hope of virtue quite in me expired.<br />

When as the Lord of hosts, my gracious Father,<br />

Bent on my dulled powers his beams of<br />

brightness,<br />

And my confused spirits in one did gather<br />

Too long ensnared by vanity and lightness.<br />

A perfect zeal (not office of my senses)<br />

So seized my judgement smothered in his miss,<br />

That Heaven I wished and loathed this earthly jail,<br />

My heart disclaimed vile thoughts and vain<br />

pretences.<br />

And my desires were shut in seemly vail, 1<br />

So that I said, “Lord, what a world is this?”<br />

After such time as he had received his judgement,<br />

he grew into this meditation of the miseries of<br />

1 vail something which obscures or cloaks.<br />

T HOMAS L ODGE<br />

870<br />

875<br />

880<br />

885<br />

890<br />

43<br />

life, which I dare avow is both worthy the reading<br />

and noting, yea even among the learnedest.<br />

The Third.<br />

A shop of shame, a gain of life-long grief,<br />

A heaven for fools, a hell to perfect wise,<br />

A theatre of blames where death is chief,<br />

A golden cup where poison hidden lies.<br />

A storm of woes without one calm of quiet,<br />

A hive that yieldeth hemlock and no honey,<br />

A booth of sin, a death to those that try it,<br />

A fair where cares are sold withouten money.<br />

A fleshly joy, a grave of rotten bones,<br />

A spring of tears, a let 2 of true delight,<br />

A loss of time, a labyrinth of moans,<br />

A pleasing pain, a prison of the sprite,<br />

Is this my life: why cease I then resolved,<br />

To pray with Paul 3 and wish to be dissolved?<br />

Thus endeth the life of William Longbeard: a<br />

glass 4 for all sorts to look into, wherein the highminded<br />

may learn to know the mean, and corrupt<br />

consciences may read the confusion of their<br />

wickedness. Let this example serve to withdraw<br />

the bad-minded from Bedlam 5 insolence, and<br />

encourage the good to follow godliness, so have I<br />

that fruit of my labour which I desire, and God<br />

shall have the glory, to whom be all praise.<br />

—1593<br />

FINIS.<br />

2 let hindrance, stop.<br />

3 To pray with Paul This might be a reference to any of the places in<br />

his Letters where Paul expresses his desire to abandon the body and<br />

become one with Christ after death: for example, Romans 7:24-8:3; 1<br />

Corinthians 15:50-58; 2 Corinthians 4:8-18.<br />

4 glass mirror.<br />

5 Bedlam mad, insane.

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