25

Let those who are in favour with their stars

Of public honour and proud titles boast,

Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars,

Unlooked 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 figh

After a thousand victories once foiled

Is from the book of honour razed quite,

And all the rest forgot for which he toiled.

Then happy I, that love and am belove

Where I may not remove nor be removed.