Farewell! Thou Art Too Dear For My

Lord, Lord, How This World Is Given To Lying!

His Steeds To Water At Those Springs On Chaliced Flowers That Lies; And Winking Mary-buds Begin To Ope Their Golden Eyes: With Every Thing That Pretty Is, My Lady Sweet, Arise.

But 'tis Common Proof, That Lowliness Is Young Ambition's Ladder, Whereto The Climber-upward Turns His Face; But When He Once Attains The Upmost Round, He Then Turns His Back, Looks In The Clouds, Scorning The Vase Defrees By Which He Did Ascend.

Of All Complexions The Culled Sovereignty Do Meet, As At A Fair, In Her Fair Cheek, Where Several Worthies Make One Dignity, Where Nothing Wants That Want Itself Doth Seek.

O That Men's Ears Should Be To Counsel Deaf But Not To Flattery!