MY MINDE TO ME A KINGDOM IS: My minde to me a kingdom is; Such perfect joy therein I finde As farre exceeds all earthly blisse That God or nature hath assignde; Though much I want that most would have, Yet still my minde forbids to crave. Content I live; this is my stay, I seek no more than may suffice. I see how plentie surfets oft, And hastie clymbers soon do fall; I see that such as sit aloft Mishap doth threaten most of all. These get with toile, they keepe with feare; No princely pompe nor welthie store, No wylie wit to salve a sore, No shape to winne a lover's eye,- Some have too much, yet still they crave; They are but poore, though much they have, They poor, I rich; they beg, I give; I laugh not at another's losse, I grudge not at another's gaine; No worldly wave my mind can tosse; I brooke that is another's bane. I feare no foe, I fawne no friend; I lothe not life, nor dread mine end. I joy not in no earthly blisse; I weigh not Croesus' wealth a straw; For care, I care not what it is; I feare not fortune's fatal law; My minde is such as may not move For beautie bright, or force of love. I wish but what I have at will; I wander not to seeke for more; I like the plaine, I clime no hill; In greatest stormes I sitte on shore, And laugh at them that toile in vaine To get what must be lost againe. I kisse not where I wish to kill; I feigne not love where most I hate; I breake no sleepe to winne my will; I wayte not at the mightie's gate. I scorne no poore, I feare no rich; I feele no want, nor have too much. The court ne cart I like ne loath, Extreames are counted worst of all; The golden meane betwixt them both Doth surest sit, and feares no fall; This is my choyce; for why, I finde My wealth is health and perfect ease; Nor by desert to breed offence. SIR EDWARD DYER. ΤΟ ONE WHO HAD SCOFFED AT THE YES, I am poor, Callistratus! I own; But through the world my verse is often sung; And "That is he!" sounds buzzed from every tongue; And what to few, when dust, the Fates assign, From the Latin of MARTIAL. |