So earth falls down, and fire doth mount Who ever ceased to wish when he had above, wealth? Or having wisdom was not vexed in mind? Then as a bee, which among weeds doth | There is she crowned with garlands of fall, This honey tasted still, is ever sweet; OF this fair volume which we World do The pleasure of her ravished thought is such, As almost here she with her bliss doth meet. But when in heaven she shall his essence see, This is her sovereign good, and perfect bliss, Her longings, wishings, hopes, all finished be, Her joys are full, her motions rest in this. name SIR HENRY WOTTON. But silly we, like foolish children, rest Well pleased with colored vellum, leaves of gold, Fair dangling ribbons, leaving what is best, On the great writer's sense ne'er taking hold; Or if by chance we stay our minds on aught, It is some picture on the margin wrought. SIR HENRY WOTTON. [1568 - 1639.] TO HIS MISTRESS, THE QUEEN OF BOHEMIA. You meaner beauties of the night, That poorly satisfy our eyes More by your number than your light! You common people of the skies! What are you, when the sun shall rise? You curious chanters of the wood, That warble forth dame Nature's lays, Thinking your voices understood By your weak accents! what's your praise When Philomel her voice shall raise? You violets that first appear, By your pure purple mantles known, Like the proud virgins of the year, As if the spring were all your own! So, when my mistress shall be seen In form and beauty of her mind; By virtue first, then choice, a Queen! Tell me, if she were not designed The eclipse and glory of her kind? THE GOOD MAN. How happy is he born and taught, That serveth not another's will; Whose armor is his honest thought, And simple truth his utmost skill! Whose passions not his masters are, Whose soul is still prepared for death, LADY ELIZABETH CAREW. Untied unto the worldly care 13 Who envies none that chance doth raise, Who hath his life from rumors freed, Whose conscience is his strong retreat; Whose state can neither flatterers feed, Nor ruin make oppressors great; Who God doth late and early pray, More of his grace than gifts to lend; And entertains the harmless day With a religious book or friend: This man is freed from servile bands, LADY ELIZABETH CAREW. REVENGE OF INJURIES. THE fairest action of our human life If we a worthy enemy do find, To yield to worth it must be nobly done; But if of baser metal be his mind, In base revenge there is no honor won. Who would a worthy courage overthrow? And who would wrestle with a worthless foe? We say our hearts are great, and cannot yield; Because they cannot yield, it proves them poor: Great hearts are tasked beyond their power but seld; The weakest lion will the loudest roar. Truth's school for certain doth this same allow; High-heartedness doth sometimes teach to bow. WILLIAM BYRD. Of a clear conscience, that (without all I see how plenty surfeits oft, And hasty climbers soonest fall; I see that such as sit aloft 15 Mishap doth threaten most of all. These get with toil, and keep with fear; Such cares my mind could never bear. No princely pomp nor wealthy store, No shape to win a lover's eye, Some have too much, yet still they crave; And I am rich with little store. I laugh not at another's loss, I grudge not at another's gain; No worldly wave my mind can toss; I brook that is another's bane. I fear no foe, nor fawn on friend; I loathe not life, nor dread mine end. I joy not in no earthly bliss; I weigh not Croesus' wealth a straw; For care, I care not what it is; I fear not fortune's fatal law; My mind is such as may not move For beauty bright, or force of love. I wish but what I have at will; In greatest storms I sit on shore, And laugh at them that toil in vain To get what must be lost again. I kiss not where I wish to kill; The court nor cart I like nor loathe; Extremes are counted worst of all; The golden mean betwixt them both Doth surest sit, and fears no fall; This is my choice; for why, I find No wealth is like a quiet mind. |