It is here chiefly printed from a thin quarto Music book, entitled," Psalmes, Sonets, and Songs of sad"nes and pietie, made into Musicke of five parts: "&c. By William Byrd, one of the Gent. of the "Queenes Majesties honorable Chappell.-Printed "by Thomas East, &c." 4to. no date: but Ames in his Typog. has mentioned another edit. of the same book, dated 1588, which I take to have been later than this.

Some improvements, and an additional stanza (sc. the 5th,) were had from two other ancient copies; one of them in black letter in the Pepys collection, thus inscribed, "A sweet and pleasant sonet, intitled, "My Minde to me a Kingdom is." To the tune of In Crete, &c.

Some of the stanzas in this poem were printed by Byrd separate from the rest: they are here given in what seemed the most natural order.

My minde to me a kingdome is;
Such perfect joy therein I finde
As farre exceeds all earthly blisse,

That God or Nature hath assignde:

Though much I want, that most would have, 5
Yet still my mind forbids to crave.

Content I live, this is my stay;

I seek no more than may suffice:

I presse to beare no haughtie sway;

Look what I lack my minde supplies.
Loe! thus I triumph like a king,
Content with that my mind doth bring.

10

I see how plentie surfets oft,

And hastie clymbers soonest fall:
I see that such as sit aloft

Mishap doth threaten most of all:
These get with toile, and keep with feare:
Such cares my mind could never beare.

No princely pompe, nor welthie store,
No force to winne the victorie,
No wylie wit to salve a sore,

No shape to winne a lovers eye;
To none of these I yeeld as thrall,
For why my mind despiseth all.

Some have too much, yet still they crave,
I little have, yet seek no more :
They are but poore, tho' much they have;

And I am rich with little store:
They poor, I rich; they beg, I give;
They lacke, I lend; they pine, I live.

I laugh not at anothers losse,

I grudge not at anothers gaine;
No worldly wave my mind can tosse,
I brooke that is anothers bane:
I feare no foe, nor fawne on friend;

I lothe not life, nor dread mine end.

I joy not in no earthly blisse;

I weigh not Cresus' welth a straw; For care, I care not what it is;

I feare not fortunes fatall law:

My mind is such as may not move
For beautie bright or force of love.

I wish but what I have at will;

I wander not to seeke for more; I like the plaine, I clime no hill;

In greatest stormes I sitte on shore, And laugh at them that toile in vaine To get what must be lost againe.

40

45

I kisse not where I wish to kill;

I feigne not love where most I hate;

50

I breake no sleep to winne my will;

I wayte not at the mighties gate;
I scorne no poore, I feare no rich;
I feele no want, nor have too much.

The court, ne cart, I like, ne loath;

Extreames are counted worst of all: The golden meane betwixt them both

Doth surest sit, and fears no fall: This is my choyce, for why I finde, No wealth is like a quiet minde.

55

60

My welth is health, and perfect ease;

My conscience clere my chiefe defence:
I never seeke by brybes to please,

Nor by desert to give offence:

Thus do I live, thus will I die;

65

Would all did so as well as I!

VI.

THE PATIENT COUNTESS.

The subject of this tale is taken from that entertaining Colloquy of Erasmus, entitled, "Uxor Mus, sive Conjugium:" which has been agreeably modernized by the late Mr. Spence, in his little Miscellaneous Publication, entitled, "Moralities, &c. by Sir Harry Beaumont," 1753, 8vo. pag. 42.

The following stanzas are extracted from an ancient poem entitled Albion's England, written by W. Warner, a celebrated Poet in the reign of Q. Elizabeth, though his name and works are now equally forgotten. The Reader will find some account of him in vol ii. book ii. song 4.

The following stanzas are printed from the author's improved edition of his work, printed in 1602, 4to. the third impression of which appeared so early as 1592, in bl. let. 4to.-The edition in 1602 is in thirteen Books; and so it is reprinted in 1612, 4to.; yet in 1606 was published "A Continuance of Albion's England, by the "first author, W. W. Lond. 4to.:" this contains Books xiv. xv. xvi. In Ames's

Typography is preserved the memory of another publication of this writer's, entitled, “ Warner's Poetry," printed in 1580, 12mo. and reprinted in 1602. There is also extant, under the name of Warner, "Syrinx, "or seven fold Hist. pleasant, and profitable, comical, and tragical." 4to.

It is proper to premise that the following lines were not written by the Author in stanzas, but in long Alexandrines of fourteen syllables: which the narrowness of our page made it here necessary to subdivide.

IMPATIENCE chaungeth smoke to flame,
But jelousie is hell;

Some wives by patience have reduc'd

Ill husbands to live well:

As did the ladie of an earle,

Of whom I now shall tell.

6

An earle there was' had wedded, lov'd ;
Was lov'd, and lived long

Full true to his fayre countesse; yet

At last he did her wrong.

Once hunted he untill the chace,

Long fasting, and the heat

Did house him in a peakish graunge

Within a forest great.

5

10

Where knowne and welcom'd (as the place 15

And persons might afforde)