Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey - Of Thy Life, Thomas, This Compa** Well Mark lyrics

Of thy life, Thomas, this compa** well mark: Not aye with full sails the high seas to beat, Ne by coward dread, in shunning storms dark, On shallow shores thy keel in peril freat . [to fret] Whoso gladly halseth the golden mean [to embrace] Void of dangers advisedly hath his home, Not with loathsome muck, as a den unclean, Nor palace-like whereat disdain may glome . [frown] The lofty pine the great wind often rives; With violenter sway fallen turrets steep; Lightnings a**ault the high mountains and clives . [splits] A heart well stayed, in overthwarts deep Hopeth amends; in sweet doth fear the sour. God that sendeth, withdraweth winter sharp. Now ill, not aye thus. Once Phoebus to lour With bow unbent shall cease, and frame to harp His voice. In straight estate appear thou stout; And so wisely, when lucky gale of wind All thy puffed sails shall fill, look well about, Take in a reef. Haste is waste, proof doth find.