Of bodely pleasour or corporall voluptuosyte
Wanton wastfull and vayne voluptuosyte
Oft blyndeth attysynge vnto inconuenyence
Many that ar rude, for theyr symplycyte
And them as shepe sleeth for all theyr innocence
But other some it kepyth with myght and violence
As bulles bounde sure to endure great care
And other as byrdes it tangleth in hir snare
Drawe nere ye folys to you I crye and call
Whiche ar of grace clene destytute and bare
Folowynge your lust and pleasour corporall
But for your soule ye take no thought ne care
To whome may I this shamefull lust compare
Saue to a harlat faynynge, fals and couetous.
Of whome comyth shame and bytes venemous
She syttyth in the strete as past both shame and fere
Hir brestes bare to tempt them that passe by
Hir face anoyntyd blasynge abrode hir here
Or els on hir folysshe front enlaced hye
Hir smocke to garnysshyd so hir dysceytfull iye
To shamfull lust a thousande doth attyce
Of youth whiche erst perchuance knewe nought of vyce
Hir chamber full of flatery and disceyte
Anone is opened the blynde fole entreth in
The hoke of deth is hyd vnder the bayte
Of folysshe lust pleasour and mortall syn
Hir soule she sellyth ryches therby to wyne
And what riches: a rewarde sothly full vyle
The soules damneth and bodyes doth defyle
The one departyth, another comys in agayne
Without all shame dare she them boldly pray
To hir fals pleasours, Thus by hir gyle and trayne
This folysshe youth to hir wyll nat denay
But vnto hir some lepe both nyght and day
Without mesure, rennynge to lese theyr lyfe
As ox or shepe vnto the bochers knyfe
The symple lambe his necke doth out extende
Vnto the Bocher his mortall ennemy
So doth these folys, sekynge a shamefull ende
And theyr owne deth, though they myght fynde remedy
O blynde fole I requyre the to aply
Vnto my wordes and thou shalt here and se.
Howe moche thou oughtest this folysshe lust to fle
The soule it damneth, and drowneth depe in hell
The wyt it wastyth, and confoundeth the mynde
It causeth man his londe and good to sell
And if that he none other mene can fynde
To rob and stele he oft tyme is inclyned
Besyde all these this fowle lust is so vyle
That with fowle sauour it shall thy body fele
Thoughe of lewde lust the ioy be short and small
And thoughe the pleasour therof be soon ouer past
The payne that foloweth it, is eternall
With wofull dolour menglyd, that euer shall last
Therfore leue of: do nat thy pleasour cast
On worldly welth, delyte ioy and pleasour
For soon they pas and chaunge at euery hour
Who that in this wretchyd worlde wyll auoyde
Of voluptuousnes the ioyes frayle and vayne
And suffre nat hym with them to be acloyde
Infect or drownyd, shall for the same certayne
Euerlastynge lyfe, and endles ioy obtayne
And for his hye tryumphe and dyuyne prudence
Haue the fruycyon of goddes hye presence
But who that wyll his carnall lust ensue
Shall here haue shame, and after payne cruell
I coude hereof dyuers examples shewe
But of right many this one I shall you tell
One Sardanapalus all other dyd excell.
In carnall lust and so his mynde dyd cast
On loue prohybyte, that grace was fro hym past
The loue of vertue was full out of his mynde
So he concludyd to sue dilyciousnes
Thynkynge after deth no welth nor ioy to fynde
For this is the sentence of the prynce of derknes
But good almyghty seynge his vycyousnes
His body and soule deuydyd soon in twayne
From worldly pleasour vnto infernall payne
By this hystory to vs it apereth playne
That from worldly pleasour and voluptuosyte
With all our myght we ought vs to refrayne
For thoughe the first of them delycious be
Theyr ende is poyson, and of sournes plente
Sue wyse men vertue, and set suche lust asyde
For they ar folys that in it lyue and byde
The enuoy of Barklay to the Folys.
Amende mad men your blynde mysgouernaunce
Subdue nat your necke to the captyuyte
Of flysshely lust and corporall pleasaunce
Nor to blynde Venus with hir lasciuyte
(If ye it note) ye dayly here and se
The mysfortune of them that it ensue
And certaynly no man can saued be
By carnall lust, but by godly vertue