Whose worth is in himself, and onely blisse
In his pure conscience that doth nought amisse.
Who placeth pleasure in his purged soul
And virtuous life his treasure doth esteem;
Who can his passions master and controll,
And that true lordly manlinesse doth deem,
Who from this world himself hath clearly quit
Counts nought his own but what lives in his sprite.
So when his sprite from this vain world shall flit
It bears all with it whatsoever was dear