148
The first Booke of
Cant. X.
Shee him instructed with great industree;Shortly therein so perfect he became,That from the first vnto the last degree,His mortall life he learned had to frameIn holy righteousnesse, without rebuke or blame.
Thence forward by that painfull way they pas,Forth to an hill, that was both steepe and hy;On top whereof a sacred chappell was,And eke a litle Hermitage therebyWherein an aged holy man did lie,That day and night said his deuotion,Ne other worldly busines did apply;His name was heuenly Contemplation;Of God and goodnes was his meditation.
Great grace that old man to him giuen had;For God he often saw from heauens hight,All were his earthly eien both blunt and bad,And through great age had lost their kindly sight,Yet wondrous quick and persaunt was his spright,As Eagles eie, that can behold the Sunne:That hill they scale with all their powre and might,That his fraile thighes nigh weary, and fordonneGan faile, but by her helpe the top at last he wonne.
There they doe finde that godly aged Sire,With snowy lockes adowne his shoulders shed,As hoary frost with spangles doth attireThe mossy braunches of an Oke halfe ded.Each bone might through his body well be red,And euery sinew seene through his long fast:For nought he car'd his carcas long vnfed;His mind was full of spirituall repast,And pyn'd his flesh, to keepe his body low and chast.
