Reformed speeche doth now become us best,
Mens wordes muste weye and tryed be by touche
Of Gods owne worde, wherein the truth doth rest.
Content you then (my Lordes) with good intent,
Grave Citizens, you people greate and small,
To see your selves in Glasse of Governement:
Beholde rashe youth, which daungerously doth fall
On craggy rockes of sorrowes nothing softe,
When sober wittes by Vertue clymes alofte.