Than shalt thou my mynde fulfyll
And thou therto thy selfe abandon
Stryue not with reason for none encheson
For wher she lacketh ther is grete outrage
And without her may not aswage
Eschew also the synne of pryde
The moder and the feruent rote
Of all the synnes at euery tyde
Wherfore trede thou her vnder fote
With helpe of vertue so swete and sote