XV. 1. EPIGRAM.1 (By Edward Earl of Oxford.) ERE I a king, I could command content; my cares; Or were I dead, no cares should me torment, Nor hopes, nor hates, nor loves, nor griefs, nor fears. A doubtful choice,-of these three which to crave; A kingdom, or a cottage, or a grave. 2. ANSWERED THUS BY ST P. S. ERT thou a king, yet not command content, Sith empire none thy mind could yet suffice; Wert thou obscure, still cares would thee torment; But wert thou dead, all care and sorrow dies. An easy choice,—of these three which to crave; No kingdom, nor a cottage, but a grave. MS. Chetham 8012, p. 84. A copy of the first two epigrams, without distinction of authors, is printed from an ancient MS. Miscellany" in Lord Orford's "Works," vol. i. p. 551, as Lord Oxford's, signed "Vere." 6. 3. ANOTHER, OF ANOTHER MIND. KING? oh, boon for my aspiring mind! A cottage makes a country swad rejoice; And as for death, I like him in his kind, Nor last, nor next, but first and best I crave; Till then salute me thus,-Vive le Roy! F. M. 4. ANOTHER, OF ANOTHER MIND. HE greatest kings do least command content; The greatest cares do still attend a crown; A grave all happy fortunes do[th] prevent, XVI. MY MIND TO ME A KINGDOM IS.1 (By Sir Edward Dyer. Born circ. 1540; died 1607.) Y mind to me a kingdom is, M Such present joys therein I find, That it excels all other bliss That earth affords or grows by kind: Though much I want which most would have, No princely pomp, no wealthy store, No wily wit to salve a sore, No shape to feed a loving eye; I see how plenty [surfeits] oft, 1 From MS. Rawl. 85, p. 17. There is a very similar but anonymous copy in Brit. Mus. Addit. MS. 15,225, p. 85. Longer copies, also anonymous, are printed from Byrd in "Exc. Tudor." vol. i. pp. 100-1, and in "Cens. Lit." vol. ii. pp. 108-9; as well as by Percy, &c. There is an imitation in J. Sylvester's "Works," p. 651. Content to live, this is my stay ; I seek no more than may suffice; Some have too much, yet still do crave; I grudge not at another's pain; Some weigh their pleasure by their lust, A cloaked craft their store of skill: My wealth is health and perfect ease: Nor by deceit to breed offence: E. DIER. XVII. 1. THE SHEPHERD'S CONCEIT OF PROMETHEUS.1 (By Sir Edward Dyer.) ROMETHEUS when first from heaven high He brought down fire, 'ere then on Fond of the light, a satyr, standing by, Feeling forthwith the other's burning power, Wood with the smart, with shouts and shriekings shrill, He sought his ease in river, field and bower, So silly I, with that unwonted sight In human shape, an angel from above, The difference is, the satyr's lips, my heart,— I With Dyer's name in MS. Rawl. 85, p. 8, and "England's Helicon," 1600; also headed E. D. in "the Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia," p. 477, edit. 1598. An anonymous copy in Harl. MS. 6910, fol. 154, verso. |