Coelum, non animum
To R. P.
Why fleest thou throughe the worlde? in hope to alter kinde:
No forren soile, hath anie force to change the inward minde.
Thou doste but alter aire, thou alterest not thy thoughte:
No distance farre can wipe awaye, what Nature first hath wroughte.
The foole, that farre is sente some wisedome to attaine:
Returnes an Ideot, as he wente, and bringes the foole againe.
Where rancor firste hathe roote, it growes, live where wee shall:
And where as malice is by kinde, no absence helpes at all.
The catte, in countries kepte, where are no myse for praye,
Yet, being broughte where they doe breede, her selfe shee doth bewraye.
The beastes of crewell kinde, where hate, by nature growes,
Thoughe parted longe, yet when they meete, become most deadlie foes,
Which prooves, no travaile farre, no coaste, nor countrie straunge:
Hathe anie force to alter kinde, or Natures worke to chaunge.