X. C EDWARD VERE, EARL OF OXFORD, 1545-1604. THE BIRTH OF DESIRE. OME hither, shepherd swain ! I pray thee shew to me thy name! When wert thou born, Desire? By whom, sweet boy, wert thou begot? Tell me, who was thy nurse? Fresh youth in sugared joy. What was thy meat and daily food? Sad sighs, with great annoy. What hadst thou then to drink? Unsavoury lovers' tears. What cradle wert thou rocked in? In hope devoid of fears. What lulled thee then asleep? Sweet speech, which likes me best. Tell me where is thy dwelling place? In gentle hearts I rest. What thing doth please thee most? Whom dost thou think to be thy foe? Doth company displease? Yes, surely, many one. Where doth Desire delight to live? He loves to live alone. Doth either time or age Bring him unto decay? No! no, Desire both lives and dies A thousand times a day. Then fond Desire, farewell, Thou art not mate for me, I should be loth methinks to dwell With such a one as thee. XI. SIR EDWARD Dyer, 1550?-1607. MY MIND TO ME A KINGDOM IS. Y mind to me a kingdom is, MY Such present joys therein I find, That it excels all other bliss That earth affords or grows by kind: Though much I want which most would have, No princely pomp, no wealthy store, No wily wit to salve a sore, No shape to feed a loving eye; I see how plenty surfeits oft, And hasty climbers soon do fall; Content I live, this is my stay, suffice; I seek no more than may Some have too much, yet still do crave; They poor, I rich; they beg, I give ; I laugh not at another's loss, I grudge not at another's gain; Some weigh their pleasure by their lust, Their treasure is their only trust, A cloked craft their store of skill. |