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 worth, After a thousand victories once foil'd, Is from the book of honor rased 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.