Fair leaves, the marigold

Sonnets, [25]. “Let those who are in favor with their stars/ Of public honor and proud titles boast,/ Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars,/ Unlook’d for joy in that I honor most./ Great princes’ favorites their fair leaves spread/ But as the marigold at the sun’s eye,/ And in themselves their pride lies buried,/ For at a frown they in their glory die./ The painful warrior famoused for fight,/ After a thousand victories once foil’d,/ Is from the book of honor razed quite,/ And all the rest forgot for which he toil’d./ Then happy I, that love and am beloved, Where I may not remove nor be removed.”

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