Worshyp nat thy ryches nor thy vayne treasoure

Ne this wretchyd worlde full of mysery.

But lawde thy maker and thy sauyour

With fere, mekenes, fayth, glory, and honoure

Let thy treasoure onely in his seruyce be

And here be content with symple behauoure

Hauynge in this lorde trust and felycyte


Of to moche spekynge or bablynge.