Of them that correct other and yet them selfe do nought and synne worse than they whom they so correct.
He lacketh reason and vnderstandynge to
Whiche to a towne or Cyte knoweth the way
And shewyth other howe they may thether go
Hym selfe wandrynge aboute from day to day
In myre and fen, though his iourney thether lay
So he is mad whiche to other doth preche and tell
The wave to heuyn, and hym selfe goth to hell.
Nowe to our Nauy, a sorte maketh asaute
Of folys blynde, mad Jugys and Iniust
Whiche lyghtly noteth another mannes faute.
Chastynge that synne, whiche theyr owne mynde doth rust
By longe abydynge, and increas of carnall lust
They cloke their owne vyce synne and enormyte