Time's eldest son, Old Age, the heir of Ease,
  Strength's foe, Love's woe, and foster to Devotion,
Bids gallant youths in martial prowess please,
  As for himself, he hath no earthly motion,
But thinks sighs, tears, vows, prayers, and sacrifices,
As good as shows, masks, jousts, or tilt devises.

Then sit thee down, and say thy Nunc Dimittis,
  With De profundis, Credo and Te Deum,
Chant Miserere for what is now so fit is,
  As that, or this, Paratum est cor meum,
O that thy Saint would take in worthy heart,
Thou canst not please her with a better part.

When others sing Venite exultemus,
  Stand by and turn to Noli aemulari,
For Quare fremuerunt use Oremus;
  Vivat Eliza for an Ave Maria,
And teach those swains that live about thy cell,
To say Amen when thou dost pray so well.