Great Princes favorites their faire leaves spread,
But as the Marigold at the suns eye,
And in themselves their pride lies buried,
For at a frowne they in their glory die.
The painefull warrier famosed for worth,
After a thousand victories once foild,
Is from the booke of honour razed quite,
And all the rest forgot for which he toild;
  Then happy I that love and am beloved
  Where I may not remove, nor be removed.

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