HE that of such a height hath built his mind,

And reared the dwelling of his thoughts so strong,

As neither fear nor hope can shake the frame

Of his resolvéd powers; nor all the wind
Of vanity or malice pierce to wrong
His settled peace, or to disturb the same:
What a fair seat hath he, from whence he
may

The boundless wastes and wilds of man survey?

And with how free an eye doth he look down

Upon these lower regions of turmoil? Where all the storms of passions mainly beat

On flesh and blood: where honor, power,

Beyond the feeble limits of your kind, As they can stand against the strongest head

Passion can make; inured to any hue The world can cast: it cannot cast that mind

Out of her form of goodness, that doth see Both what the best and worst of earth

can be.

Which makes, that whatsoever here befalls,

You in the region of yourself remain : Where no vain breath of the impudent

molests

That hath secured within the brazen walls

stain)

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 force to win the victory,
No wily wit to salve a sore,

No shape to win a lover's eye,
To none of these I yield as thrall;
For why, my mind despiseth all.

Some have too much, yet still they crave;
I little have, yet seek no more.
They are but poor, though much they
have;

And I am rich with little store.
They poor, I rich; they beg, I give;
They lack, I lend; they pine, I live.

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;
I wander not to seek for more;
I like the plain, I climb no hill;

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;

I feign not love where most I hate; I break no sleep to win my will; I wait not at the mighty's gate. I scorn no poor, I fear no rich; I feel no want, nor have too much.

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.

Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.

Fear no more the frown o' the great,
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke;
Care no more to clothe, and eat;
To thee the reed is as the oak:
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this, and come to dust.

Fear no more the lightning flash,
Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Thou hast finished joy and moan:
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust.

17

And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:

Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow, For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,

And weep afresh love's long-since-cancelled woe,

And moan the expense of many a vanished sight.

Then can I grieve at grievances foregone, And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er The sad account of fore-bemoanéd moan, Which I new pay as if not paid before. But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,

All losses are restored, and sorrows end.

do change:

Thy pyramids built up with newer might To me are nothing novel, nothing strange; They are but dressings of a former sight. Our dates are brief, and therefore we admire

What thou dost foist upon us that is old;
And rather make them born to our desire,
Than think that we before have heard
them told.

Thy registers and thee I both defy,
Not wondering at the present nor the past;
For thy records and what we see do lie,
Made more or less by thy continual haste:
This I do vow, and this shall ever be,
I will be true, despite thy scythe and
thee.