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You may hap to think itt soon enough,
that shooting reach, I ween.
Jamye his hatt pulled over his browe,
He thought his lord then was betray'd ; And he is to Erle Percy againe,
To tell him what the Douglas sayd.
Hold upp thy head, man, quoth his lord ;
Nor therefore lett thy courage fayle ; He did it but to prove thy heart,
To see if he cold make it quail.
When they had other fifty sayld,
205 Other fifty mile upon
sea, Lord Percy called to Douglas himselfe,
Sayd, What wilt thou nowe doe with mee?
Looke that your brydle be wight, my lord,
And your horse goe swift as shipp att sea : 210 Looke that your spurres be bright and sharpe,
That you may pricke her while she'll away.
What needeth this, Douglas ? he sayth;
What needest thou to flyte with mee? For I was counted a horseman good
Before that ever I mett with thee.
A false Hector hath my horse,
Who dealt with mee so treacherouslie :
A false Armstrong he hath my spurres,
And all the geere belongs to mee.
When they had sayled other fifty mile,
Other fifty mile upon the sea :
A deputed · laird 'landed Lord Percye.
Then he at Yorke was doomde to dye, 225
It was, alas! a sorrowful sight:
Who ever was a gallant wight.
My Mind to me a Kingdom is. This excellent philosophical song appears to have been famous in the sixteenth century. It is quoted by Ben Jonson in his play of Every man out of his Humour, first acted in 1599, act i. sc. 1, where an impatient person says,
“ I am no such pild cynique to believe
When the lanke hungrie belly barkes for foode.” It is here chiefly printed from a thin quarto music-book, entitled “Psalmes, Sonets, and Songs of Sadnes and Pietie, made into Musicke of five parts, &c. By William Byrd, one of the Gent. of the Queenes Majesties Honorable Chappell. Printed by Thomas East,” &c. 4to. no date: but Ames, in his Typog. has mentioned another edition of the same book, dated 1588, which I take to have been later than this. Some improvements, and an additional stanza (sc. the 5th) were had from two other ancient copies; one of them in black letter, in the Pepys Collection, thus incribed, “ A sweet and pleasant Sonet, intitled My Mind to me a Kingdom is. To the tune of In Crete,” &c.
Some of the stanzas in this poem were printed by Byrd separate from the rest : they are here given in what seemed the most natural order.
My minde to me a kingdome is;
Such perfect joy therein I finde
That God or nature hath assignde :
Content I live, this is my stay;
I seek no more than may suffice:
Look what I lack my mind supplies.
I see how plentie surfets oft,
And hastie clymbers soonest fall:
Mishap doth threaten most of all:
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 dispiseth all.
Some have too much, yet still they crave,
I little have, yet seek no more:
And I am rich with little store:
I laugh not at anothers losse,
I grudge not at anothers gaine;
I brooke that is anothers bane :
I joy not in no earthly blisse:
I weigh not Cresus' welth a straw; For care,
care not what it is;
I wish but what I have at will :
I wander not to seeke for more;
I like the plaine, I clime no hill;
In greatest stormes I sitte on shore,
I kisse not where I wish to kill;
I faine not love where most I hate ;
I wayte not at the mighties gate;
The court, ne cart, I like, ne loath;
Extreames are counted worst of all;
Doth surest sit, and fears no fall :
My welth is health, and perfect ease;
My conscience clere my chiefe defence :
Nor by desert to give offence:
The Patient Countess. The subject of this tale is taken from that entertaining colloquy of Erasmus, entitled, Uxor Meutiyanos, sive Conju