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Shall any man for whose strong love another

Has thrown away his wealth and name in one,

Shall he turn mocker of a more than brother

To slight his need when his adventure’s done?

Or shall a breedless boy whose mother won him

In great men’s great concerns his little place

Turn when his farthing honours come upon him

To mock her yeoman air and conscious grace?

Then mock me as you do my narrow scope,

For you it was put out this light of mine:

Wrongfully wrecked my new adventured hope,

Wasted my wordy wealth, spilt my rich wine,

Made my square ship within a league of shore

Alas! To be entombed in seas and seen no more.

They that have taken wages of things done

When sense abused has blocked the doors of sense,

They that have lost their heritage of the sun,

Their laughter and their holy innocence;

They turn them now to this thing, now to t’other,

For anchor hold against swift-eddying time,

Some to that square of earth which was their mother,

And some to noisy fame, and some to rhyme.