Fye on prowde pompe, and gilted bridels’ bosse:
O glorious golde, the gaping after thee,
So blindes men’s eyes, they can no daunger see.
3.
Now note my byrth, and marke how I began,
Beholde from whence rose all this pryde of mine:
My father but, a plaine poore honest man,
And I his son, of wit and iudgement fine,
Brought vp at schoole and prou’d a good diuine,
For which great gifts, degree of schoole I had,