NTO the boundless ocean of thy beauty,

Runs this poor river, charged with streams of zeal,
Returning thee the tribute of my duty:

Which here my love, my youth, my plaints reveal:
Here, I unclasp the book of my charged soul,
Where I have cast th' accounts of all my care;
Here, I have summed my sighs; here, I enrol
How they were spent for thee! Look what they are;
Look on the dear expences of my youth,
And see how just I reckon with thine eyes;
Examine well thy beauty with my truth;
And cross my cares, ere greater sums arise.

Read it, sweet Maid! though it be done but slightly:
Who can shew all his love, doth love but lightly.

SYREN.

OME, worthy Greeke, Ulysses come,
Possesse these shores with me,
The windes and seas are troublesome,
And here we may be free.

Here may we sit and view their toyle,
That travaile in the deepe,

Enjoy the day in mirth the while,
And spend the night in sleepe.

ULYSSES.

Faire nymph, if fame or honour were

To be attained with ease,

Then would I come and rest with thee,

And leave such toiles as these:

But here it dwels, and here must I

With danger seek it forth,
To spend the time luxuriously
Becomes not men of worth.

Ulysses, O be not deceived

With that unreall name:

This honour is a thing conceived,
And rests on others' fame.

SYREN.

Begotten only to molest

Our peace, and to beguile (The best thing of our life) our rest, And give us up to toyle!

QUEEN ELIZABETH. 1533-1603.

GRIEVE, and dare not show my discontent;
I love, and yet am forced to seem to hate;
I do, yet dare not say I ever meant;

I seem stark mute, yet inwardly do prate :
I am, and not; I freeze, and yet am burned,
Since from myself my other self I turned.

My care is like my shadow in the sun,

Follows me flying, flies when I pursue it; Stands and lies by me; does what I have done; This too familiar care does make me rue it : No means I find to rid him from my breast, Till by the end of things it be supprest.

Some gentler passions slide into my mind,
For I am soft and made of melting snow;
Or be more cruel, Love, and so be kind;

Let me or float or sink; be high or low;
Or let me live with some more sweet content,
Or die, and so forget what love e'er meant.

ANONYMOUS. 1555.

Y minde to me a kingdom is;

Such perfect joy therein I finde
As farre exceeds all earthly blisse,

That GOD or Nature hath assignde:
Though much I want, that most would have,
Yet still my mind forbids to crave.

Content I live, this is my stay;

I seek no more than may suffice:
I presse to beare no haughtie sway;
Look what I lack my mind supplies.
Loe! thus I triumph like a king,
Content with that my mind doth bring.

I see how plentie surfets oft,

And hastie clymbers soonest fall:

I see that such as sit aloft

Mishap doth threaten most of all:

These get with toile, and keep with feare:
Such cares my mind could never beare.

No princely pompe, nor welthie store,
No force to winne the victorie,

No wylie wit to salve a sore,

No shape to winne a lovers eye; To none of these I yeeld as thrall, For why my mind despiseth all.

Some have too much, yet still they crave;
I little have, yet seek no more:
They are but poore, tho' much they have;
And I am rich with little store:

They poor, I rich; they beg, I give;
They lacke, I lend; they pine, I live.

I laugh not at anothers losse,

I grudge not at anothers gaine ;
No worldly wave my mind can tosse,
I brooke that is anothers bane: