I am not fond of Fancy's toys.
I rest so pleased with what I have
I wish no more, no more I crave.

I tremble not at noise of war,
I quake not at the thunder's crack,
I shrink not at a blazing star,
I sound not at the news of wreck,
I fear no loss, I hope no gain,
I envy none, I none disdain.

I see Ambition never pleased,
I see some Tantals starve in store,
I see gold's dropsy seldom eased,
I see each Midas gape for more:
I neither want nor yet abound,
Enough's a feast, content is crowned.

I feign not friendship where I hate,
I fawn not on the great for grace,
I prize, I praise a mean estate
Ne yet too lofty, nor too base,
This is all my choice, my cheer--
A mind content and conscience clear.

From THOMAS MORLEY's _Madrigals to Four Voices_, 1600.

I will no more come to thee
That flout'st me when I woo thee;
Still ty hy thou criest
And all my lovely rings and pins denyest.
O say, alas, what moves thee
To grieve him so that loves thee?
Leave, alas, then, ah leave tormenting
And give my burning some relenting.

From ROBERT JONES' _First Book of Songs and Airs_, 1601.

If fathers knew but how to leave
Their children wit as they do wealth,
And could constrain them to receive
That physic which brings perfect health,
The world would not admiring stand
A woman's face and woman's hand.

Women confess they must obey,
We men will needs be servants still;
We kiss their hands, and what they say
We must commend, be't ne'er so ill:
Thus we, like fools, admiring stand
Her pretty foot and pretty hand.

We blame their pride, which we increase
By making mountains of a mouse;
We praise because we know we please;
Poor women are too credulous
To think that we admiring stand
Or foot, or face, or foolish hand.

From CAMPION and ROSSETER's _Book of Airs_, 1601.

If I urge my kind desires,
She, unkind, doth them reject,
Women's hearts are painted fires,
To deceive them that affect.
I alone love's fires include:
She alone doth them delude.

She hath often vowed her love:
But alas no fruit I find.
That her fires are false I prove
Yet, in her, no fault I find.
I was thus unhappy born,
And ordained to be her scorn.

Yet if hum