fall,

Which seem sweet flowers with lustre fresh and gay,

She lights on that and this, and tasteth all;

But pleased with none, doth rise and

Untied unto the worldly care

Of public fame, or private breath;

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Who envies none that chance doth raise,
Or vice; who never understood
How deepest wounds are given by praise;
Nor rules of state, but rules of good;

Who hath his life from rumors freed,

Whose conscience is his strong retreat; Whose state can neither flatterers feed, Nor ruin make oppressors great;

Who God doth late and early pray, More of his grace than gifts to lend; And entertains the harmless day

With a religious book or friend:

This man is freed from servile bands, Of hope to rise, or fear to fall; Lord of himself, though not of lands; And having nothing, yet hath all.

LADY ELIZABETH CAREW. [About 1613.]

REVENGE OF INJURIES.

THE fairest action of our human life
Is scorning to revenge an injury;
For who forgives without a further strife,

His adversary's heart to him doth tie;
And 't is a firmer conquest truly said,
To win the heart, than overthrow the head.

If we a worthy enemy do find,

To yield to worth it must be nobly done; But if of baser metal be his mind,

In base revenge there is no honor won. Who would a worthy courage overthrow? And who would wrestle with a worthless foe?

We say our hearts are great, and cannot yield;

Because they cannot yield, it proves them poor:

Great hearts are tasked beyond their power but seld;

The weakest lion will the loudest roar. Truth's school for certain doth this same allow; High-heartedness doth sometimes teach to bow.

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

Which, madam, are so soundly fashionéd By that clear judgment, that hath carried you

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, renown,

Are only gay afflictions, golden toil; Where greatness stands upon as feeble feet,

As frailty doth; and only great doth seem To little minds, who do it so esteem.

head

And hasty climbers soonest fall; I see that such as sit aloft

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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.