Cui cedet

Two handes togeither heere with griping hold,
And all their force, doe striue to take away
This burning Lampe, and Candlestick of Gold,
Whose light shall burne in spite of Hell for ay:
And brighter then the beames of PHOEBVS shine,
For tis the Truth so holy and divine.

Which foule Ambition hath so often vext,
And swelling pride of Praelates put in doubt,
With Covetuousnes that greedie Monster next,
That long I feare me since it had bene out,
Did not thy hand (deare Saviour) from aboue
Defend it so, that it might never moue.