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THE LEGEND OF SIR CALIDORE, OR OF COURTESIE.
The waies, through which my weary steps I guyde
And, when I gin to feele decay of might,
2 Such secret comfort and such heavenly pleasures,
Well, cause to flow.
2 Fury, inspiration.
Guyde ye my footing, and conduct me well
In these strange waies where never foote did use, Ne none can find but who was taught them by the
3 Revele to me the sacred noursery
And by them long with carefull labour nurst,
4 Amongst them all growes not a fayrer flowre
Then is the bloosmeof comely Courtesie;
Ye will them all but fayned showes esteeme,
5 But, in the triall of true Curtesie,
Its now so farre from that which then it was,
1 Paine, difficulty.
3 Bowre, lodge.