Myne hyghe estate, power and auctoryte
If ye ne knewe, enserche and ye shall spye
That rychesse, worshyp, welth, and dygnyte
Ioye, rest, and peace, and all thynge fynally
That any pleasure or profyte maye come by
To mannes comforte, ayde and sustenaunce
Is all at my deuyse, and ordynaunce.
Without my fauoure, there is no thynge wonne
Many a matter haue I brought at lafte
To good conclusyon, that fondly was begonne
And many a purpose, bounden sure and faste
With wyse prouysyon, I haue ouercaste
Without good happe, there may no wyt suffyse
Better is to be fortunate, than wyse.
And therfore hath there some men ben or this
By deedly fooes, and writen many a boke
To my disprayse, and no other cause there is
But for me lyst, not frendly on them loke
Thus lyke the fox they fare, that ones forsoke
The pleasaunt grapes, and gan for to desyr them
Bycause he lept & lept, & coulde not come by the,
But let them wryte, theyr labour is in vayne
For well ye wot, myrth, honoure and rychesse
Better is than shame, penury and payne
The nedy wryteth, that lyngeryth in dystresse
Without myne helpe, is euer comfortlesse
A wity burden odyouse and lothe
To all the worlde, and to hymselfe both.
But he that by my fauoure maye ascende
To myghty power, and excellent degre
A comon wele to gouerne, and defende
O in howe blessed condycyon, standeth he
Hym selfe in honour and felycyte
And ouer that, may forther and encreace
An hole regyon, in ioye rest and peace.
Nowe in this poynt, there is no more to saye
Eche man hath of hym selfe the gouernaunce
Let euery wyght, than take his own waye
And he that out of pouerte, and myschaunce
Lyst for to lyue, and wyll hym selfe enhaunce
In welth & rychesse, come forth and wayte on me
And he that wyll be a begger, let hym be.