Page:Omniana 2.djvu/170

With stinging nettles and such weedery,
The pricking thistles the hard'st legs would gore;
Under the wall a straight door we descry,
The Wall hight Self-conceit, the Door Humility.

When we came at the door fast lockt it was.
And Simon had the key, but he nould grant
That I into that other land should pass
Without I made him my concomitant.
It pleased me well, I mus'd not much upon't
But straight accord; . . for why? a jolly swain
Methought he was; meek, chearful, and pleasant.
When he saw this, he thus to me again,
Sir, see you that sad couple? . . Then I, . . I see those twain.

A sorry couple certainly they be,
The man a bloody knife holds at his heart.
With chearless countenance; as sad is she;
Or eld, or else intolerable smart
Which she can not decline by any art,
Doth thus distort and writhe her wrinkled face;
A leaden quadrate swayes hard on that part
That's fit for burdens; foulness doth deface
Her aged looks; with a straight staff her steps she stayes.

Right well you say, then said that lusty swain,
Yet this poor couple be my parents dear,
Nor can I hence depart without these twain;
These twain give life to me, though void of chear