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XXV.
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 at the sun's eye,
And in themselves their pride lies buried,
For at a
frown they in their glory die.
The painful warrior
famoused 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 beloved
Where I may not
remove nor be removed.
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