Which oft through pride do their owne perill weaue,
And through ambition downe themselues doe driue
To sad decay, that might contented liue.
Me no such cares nor combrous thoughts offend,
Ne once my minds vnmoued quiet grieue,
But all the night in siluer sleepe I spend,
And all the day, to what I list, I doe attend.
Sometimes I hunt the Fox, the vowed foe xxiii
Vnto my Lambes, and him dislodge away;
Sometime the fawne I practise from the Doe,