lirik lagu imogen holst - why fearest thou thy outward foe?

why fearest thou thy outward foe
when thou thyself thy harm dost feed?
of grief, or hurt, of pain, or woe
within each thing is sown a seed

so fine was never yet the cloth
no smith so hard his iron did beat
but the one consumed was with moth
the other with canker all to fret

the knotty oak and wainscoat old
within doth eat the silly worm:
even so a mind in envy roll’d
always within itself doth burn

thus every thing that nature wrought
within itself his hurt doth bear:
no outward harm need to be sought
whose enemies be within so near

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