I wish but what I have at will;
I wander not to seeke for more,
I like the plaine, I clime no hill;45
In greatest stormes I sitte on shore,
And laugh at them that toile in vaine
To get what must be lost againe.
I kisse not where I wish to kill;
I feigne not love where most I hate;50
I breake no sleep to winne my will;
I wayte not at the mighties gate;
I scorne no poore, I feare no rich;
I feele no want, nor have too much.
The court, ne cart, I like, ne loath;55
Extreames are counted worst of all:
The golden meane betwixt them both,
Doth surest sit, and fears no fall:
This is my choyce, for why I finde,
No wealth is like a quiet minde.60
My welth is health, and perfect ease;
My conscience clere my chiefe defence:
I never seeke by brybes to please,
Nor by desert to give offence:
Thus do I live, thus will I die;65
Would all did so as well as I!
FOOTNOTES:
[972] [The Courtly Poets, from Raleigh to Montrose. Edited by J. Hannah, D.C.L., London, 1870. (Aldine Poets.)]
VI.
THE PATIENT COUNTESS.
The subject of this tale is taken from that entertaining Colloquy of Erasmus, intitled, "Uxor Μεμψίγαμος, sive Conjugium:" which has been agreeably modernized by the late Mr. Spence, in his little Miscellaneous Publication, intitled, "Moralities, &c. by Sir Harry Beaumont," 1753, 8vo. pag. 42.