And having nothing, yet hath all.
Sir Henry Wotton.
LXIII
WINIFREDA.
Away, let nought to love displeasing,
My Winifreda, move your care,
Let nought delay the heavenly blessing,
Nor squeamish pride nor gloomy fear.
What though no grants of royal donors 5
With pompous titles grace our blood?
We’ll shine in more substantial honours,