Animus, non res
To EDWARD PASTON Esquier.
In christall towers, and turrets richlie sette
With glittering gemmes, that shine against the sonne:
In regall roomes of Jasper, and of Jette,
Contente of minde, not alwaies likes to wonne:
But oftentimes, it pleaseth her to staye
In simple cotes, clos'de in with walles of claye.
DIOGENES, within a tonne did dwell,
No choice of place, nor store of pelfe he had;
And all his goodes, could BIAS beare right well,
And CODRUS had small cates, his harte to gladde:
His meate was rootes: his table, was a stoole,
Yet these for witte, did set the worlde to scoole?
Who covettes still, or hee that lives in feare,
As much delighte is wealthe unto his minde,
As musicke is to him, that can not heare,
Or pleasante showes, and pictures, to the blinde:
Then sweete content, ofte likes the meane estate,
Which is exempte, and free, from feare, and hate.
What man is ritche? not he that doth abounde.
What man is pore? not hee that hath no store.
But he is ritche, that makes content his grounde.
And he is pore, that covettes more and more.
Which proves: the man was ritcher in the tonne,
Then was the Kinge, that manie landes had wonne.
If then, content the chiefest riches bee,
And greedie gripes, that doe abounde be pore,
Since that, inoughe allotted is to thee,
Embrace content, then CAESAR hath no more.
Give MIDAS, goulde: and let him pine with shame.
Use you, your goodes, to live, and die, with fame.