Classic Poem

Who lyst his welthe and eas Retayne,
Hyme selffe let hym unknowne contayne;
Presse not to fast in at that gatte
Wher the Retorne standes by desdayne:
For sure, circa Regna tonat .

The hye montaynis ar blastyd oft,
When the lowe vaylye ys myld and soft;
Fortune with helthe stondis at debate;
The fall ys grevous frome Aloffte:
And sure, circa Regna tonat .

These blodye dayes have brokyn my hart;
My lust, my youth dyd then departe,
And blynd desyre of astate;
Who hastis to clyme sekes to reverte:
Of truthe, circa Regna tonat .

The bell towre showed me such syght
That in my hed stekys day and nyght;
Ther dyd I lerne out of a grate,
For all vavore, glory or myght,
That yet circa Regna tonat .

By proffe, I say, ther dyd I lerne,
Wyt helpythe not deffence to yerne,
Of innocence to pled or prate;
Ber low, therffor, geve god the sterne,
For sure, circa Regna tonat .