'Eche hawtie harte is well contente
With euerie chance that shalbe tyde
No hap can hinder his entente
He steadfast standes though fortune slide
The sun quoth he doth shine as well
A brod as earst where I did dwell
'In change of streames each fish can live
Eche soule content with everie Ayre
Eche hawtie hart remaineth still
And not be Dround in depe Dispaire
Wherfor I judg all landes a likes
To hawtie hartes whom fortune seekes
'Two pass the seaes som thinkes a toille
Som thinkes it strange abrod to rome
Som thinkes it agrefe to leave their soylle
Their parentes cynfolke and their whome
Thinke soe who list I like it nott
I must abrod to trie my lott
'Who list at whome at carte to drudge
And carke and care for worldlie trishe
With buckled sheues let him go trudge
Instead of laureall a whip to slishe
A mynd that basse his hind will show
Of carome sweet to feed a crowe
'If fasonn of that mynd had bine
The gresions when they came to troye
Had never so the Trogians foyhte
Nor neuer put them to such Anoye
Wherfore who lust to live at whome
To purchase fame I will go Rome
'Finis—Sur Richard Grinfillde's Farewell'
But Sir Richard feels bound to confess that there is another and quite a different aspect of the question; and accordingly frames the following set-off to his former lines:
'ANOTHER OF SEA FARDINGERS DISCRIBING EVILL FORTUNES.'
'What pen can well reporte the plighte
Of those that travell on the seaes
To pas the werie winters nighte
With stormie cloudes wisshinge for daie
With waves that toss them to and fro
Their pore estate is hard to show