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CONSTANCY

Let those who are in favour with their stars

Of public honour and proud titles boast, Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars, Unlook'd for joy in that I honour most. Great princes' favourites their fair leaves spread, But as the marigold in the sun's eye; And in themselves their pride lies buried, For at a frown they in their glory die. The painful warrior famous'd for fight, After a thousand victories once foil'd, Is from the book of honour razed quite, And all the rest forgot for which he toil'd: Then happy I, that love and am belov'd, Where I may not remove, nor be removed.

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