Make thou thy sincere purpose to divine
wherefore when larks and nightingales do sing,
Why honest men so love to hear their rhyme?
Doth rhyme cast thee adrift and let thee fly?
Well all in time do cut the ropes that bind
When drawn until the glorious light on high.
The Binder on high and Leader from above,
Who kindleth hearts and warmeth young men's wills,
Hearst thou from Him of hormones or of love?
Why tendeth thee thy love of ones and naughts?
Can such a feeling fit with what you know?
Dost thou excise my brain to know my thoughts?
Am I with hands a tied judged feared to fall
While others eyes shut tight are feared to stand?