do thou, O Lord, hold up my mind, lest it fall headlong, into the lowest bottoms of the dark valley, and lest the shadow of the earth should come between and separate it from thee, that ⟨p. 115⟩art the bright sun of righteousness: & lest it, once hid with the clouds of darkness: should not have liberty, but be letted to look for heavenly things which be above. Therefore I do assay to goo upward unto the joys of quietness and peace, and unto the delectable and pleasant state of light. O hold my hart with thy hand, because it can not be draw en unto high things without thee. Thither do I make haste where as most chief and principal peace reigneth and continu all quietness shineth forth. Hold and govern my spirit, and take it according to thy will, that ⟨image 118⟩thou being a guide unto it: it may ascend into the region and country of plentifulness, whereas thou feedest Israel everlastingly, with the food of truth, to the intent that there, at the least wise with my swift cogitation & thought, I may come nigh thy wisdom, which remaineth above all things: over passeth all things and governeth all things. But alas there be many things, which when my soul would fly unto thee, do cry out upon it. Command them all, O lord to hold their peace, & speak not unto me As for my soul it self, let it give never a word to answer. Let it ⟨p. 116⟩pas by all things. Let it clime above all things that be created and come unto thee, and that it may fasten the eyes of faith upon thee, which art the only creator of all things. Let it covet unto thee, and be bent towards thee, Let it think upon thee by meditation and contemplation. Let it lay thee before his eyes for it self, let it roll and toss thee in his hart: thee I say which art the true and chief goodness, and the joy that will remain ever without ending. There is surely many contemplations, in the which mans soul is marvellously fed of thee. But in none of them is my soul so much delighted, nor yet ⟨image 119⟩ha the so good rest in, as in thee: and when as it thinketh upon thee, and hath thee only in contemplation. Oh how much is thy sweetness, O Lord, how marvellously dost thou inspire the harts of them that love thee? How delectable is thy love, the fruition whereof they have that love nothing but thee: they seek for no thing else, they covet to think of nothing else.
doo thou, O Lorde, holde vp my minde, lest it fall headlong, into the lowest botomes of the dark valley, and lest the shadow of the earth shulde come betwene and seperate it from thee, that ⟨p. 115⟩art the bright sonne of rightwisnes: & lest it, once hid with the cloudes of darknes: should not haue libertie, but be letted to looke for heauēli thinges which be aboue. Therfore I doo assay to goo vpward vnto the ioyes of quietnes and peace, and vnto the delectable and pleasaunt state of light. O hold my hart with thy hand, because it can not be draw en vnto high things withoute thee. Thither doo I make haste where as moste cheef and principall peace reigneth and continu all quietnes shineth forth. Hold and gouern my spirit, and take it according to thy will, that ⟨image 118⟩thou beīg a guide vnto it: it mai ascend into the region and contrey of plentifulnes, whereas thou feedest Israell euerlastingly, with the food of truthe, to thintent that there, at the least wise with my swift cogitacion & thought, I may com nie thy wis dom, which remaineth aboue al things: ouer passeth all thinges and gouerneth all thinges. But alas there be many thīgs, which when my soule would fly vnto thee, doo cry oute vppō it. Commaund thē all, O lorde to holde their peace, & speak not vnto me As for my soule it self, let it geue neuer a wurd to answer. Let it ⟨p. 116⟩pas by all thinges. Let it clime aboue al thinges that be created and come vnto thee, and that it may fasten the eyes of faith vppon thee, which art the only creator of all things. Let it couit vnto thee, and be bent towards thee, Let it think vppon thee by meditacion and contemplacion. Let it lay thee before his eyes for it self, let it rolle and tos thee in his hart: thee I say whiche art the true and cheef goodnes, and the ioy that will remayne euer without ending. Ther is surely mani cōtēplacions, in the which mans soule is marueylously fed of thee. But in none of them is my soule so much delited, nor yet ⟨image 119⟩ha the so good rest in, as in thee: and when as it thinketh vpon thee, and hathe thee onely in cō templatiō. Oh how much is thy swetnes, O Lorde, how meruei lousli dost thou enspire the harts of them that loue thee? How delectable is thy loue, the fruicion wherof they haue that loue nothing but thee: they seek for no thing els, they couet to think of nothing els.
