Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T37: wealth, riches, money, god, rich, poverty, men, learning, poor, ic.
Doubt not thereof good Christianity, My endeavour herein shall not be delayed: Alas what is man not knowing the verity, No man, but a beast he may be said. Yet many there are, which in the world doth live, Who for Christians will needs accounted be: Though to all abominations, their selves they do give, And from no kind of vice be clear or free. Covetousness is accounted no sin, Usury is a science and art: All ways are good, whereby we may win, Although it be to our neighbour's smart. Whereby it appeareth, from love we are free, The words of the wise, we nothing regard: For without love, no virtue can perfect be, As Plato the wise, hath plainly declared. No good thing without love, it is possible to do, Seneca of that opinion hath been: Then how many good things, do they now think you, In whom no love at all there is seen. They watch their times, the simple to snare, No time they forbear, their pleasures to work: God grant we therefore of them may beware, For privily to snare us, they daily do lurk. Oh more than wretch, which so foolishly hast spent, Not only thine own goods, but also other men's: What account shall I make, for the goods to me lent, Which never I am able for to recompense. How wastefully have I, with wantonness my wife, Consumed our goods, substance and treasure, That would to God I were out of my life, For the remembrance thereof, is grief without measure. My wife and I now, are asunder dispersed, Each of us, to seek our living alone: Alas our woe may not be rehearsed, Unto whom now should we make our moan. In taking the time, to toward we wear, We were afeard to long to abide: courage's council in mind we did bear, He said that for no man would tarry the tide. But well away now, which way shall I run, I know it is folly unto God to call: For God I know my petition will shun, And into perdition I am now like to fall. Despair, despair. Why should I despair, since God doth behold, The sinner with mercy as the Scripture doth say. But thy prodigal sins are so manifold, That God of mercy, doth thee utterly denay. Therefore to end thy life it is best, Thy calling for mercy, is all but in vain: By ending thy life, thou shalt be at rest, But if longer thou live, great shall be thy pain. Well then will I seek some place where I may, Finish my life with Cord, or with knife: The dispatch thereof, I will not delay? Farewell now all the world, but chiefly my wife.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
¶Doubt not thereof good Christianity, My indeuour herein shall not be delayde: Alas what is man not knowing the verity, No man, but a beast he may be sayd. Yet many there are, which in the world doth liue, Who for Christians will néedes accoumpted be: Though to all abhominations, their selues they doe giue, And from no kind of vice be cleare or frée▪ Couetousnesse is accoumpted no sinne, Usury is a science and art: All wayes are good, whereby we may win, Although it be to our neighbours smart. Whereby it appeareth, from loue we are frée, The words of the wise, we nothing regarde: For without loue, no vertue can perfect bée, As Plato the wyse, hath playnly declarde. No good thing without loue, it is possible to doe, Seneca of that opinyon hath bene: Then how many good thinges, do they now thinke you, In whome no loue at all there is séene. They watch their times, the simple to snare, No time they forbeare, their pleasures to worke: God graunt we therefore of them may beware, For priuily to snare vs, they dayly doe lurke. ¶Oh more then wretch, which so foolishly haste spent, Not onely thine own goods, but also other mens: What accoumpt shall I make, for the goods to me lent, Which neuer I am able for to recompence. How wastfully haue I, with wantonnesse my wife, Consumed our goods, substaunce and treasure, That would to God I were out of my life, For the remembraunce thereof, is gréefe without measure. My wyfe and I now, are asunder dispersed, Ech of vs, to séeke our liuing alone: Alas our woe may not be rehearsed, Unto whome now should we make our mone. In taking the time, to toward we weare, We were afeard to long to abide: Corages councell in mind we did beare, He sayd that for no man would tarry the tyde. But well away now, which way shall I run, I know it is folly vnto God to call: For God I know my peticion will shun, And into perdition I am now like to fall. Dispayre, dispayre. Why should I dispayre, since God doth behold, The sinner with mercy as the Scripture doth say. ¶But thy prodigall sinnes are so manifold, That God of mercy, doth thée vtterly denay. Therefore to ende thy life it is best, Thy calling for mercy, is all but in vayne: By ending thy life, thou shalt be at rest, But if longer thou liue, great shall be thy payne. ¶Well then will I seeke some place where I may, Finish my life with Cord, or with knyfe: The dispatch thereof, I will not delay? Farewell now all the world, but chéefely my wife.