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Upon the Motions of the Fiend
Upon the Motions of the Fiend

With heat and cold I feel the spiteful fiend
To work one mischief by two contraries,
With lust he doth me scorch, with languor freeze,
But lust and languor both one Christ offend.

Let contraries with contraries contend,
Let fear of blame and love of Christ arise,
Hot love of Christ to melt in tears mine eyes,
Cold fear of just reproach my shame to extend,

That shame with heat may cool my looser thought,
And tears with cold heat my heart's sluggish deep.
O happy I if that such grace were wrought!

Till then, shame blush because tears cannot weep,
And tears weep you because shame cannot blush,
Till shame from tears, and tears from shame do flush.

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