As soone as sleepe hath left thy drowsie eies Follow the path that on thy right hand lies: An aged Hermit thou by chaunce shalt find That there hath bene time almost out of mind, This holy man, this aged reuerent Father, There in the woods doth rootes and simples gather; His wrinckled browe tells strenghts past long ago, His beard as white as winters driuen snow.