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| SONNET 25 |
| Let those who are in favour with their stars |
| Of public honour and proud titles boast, |
| Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars, |
| Unlook'd for joy in that I honour most. |
| Great princes' favourites their fair leaves spread |
| But as the marigold at the sun's eye, |
| And in themselves their pride lies buried, |
| For at a frown they in their glory die. |
| The painful warrior famoused for fight, |
| After a thousand victories once foil'd, |
| Is from the book of honour razed quite, |
| And all the rest forgot for which he toil'd: |
| Then happy I, that love and am beloved |
| Where I may not remove nor be removed. |
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