O if thou knew’st how thou thyself dost harm, And dost prejudge thy bliss, and spoil my rest; Then thou would’st melt the ice out of thy breast And thy relenting heart would kindly warm.
To love and be beloved, this is the good, Which for most sovereign all the world will prove.
Vile avarice and pride, from Heaven accurst, In all are ill, but in a church-man worst.