“My minde to me a kingdom is”

My minde to me a kingdom 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, Yet still my minde 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 mind supplies. Loe, thus I triumph like a king, Content with that my minde doth bring. I see how plentie surfets oft, And hastie clymbers soon do fall; I see that such as sit aloft Mishap doth threaten most of all. These get with toile, they keepe with feare; Such cares my minde could never beare. No princely pompe nor welthie store, No force to win the victorie, No wylie wit to salve a sore, No shape to winne a lover’s 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, though 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 another’s losse, I grudge not at another’s gaine; No worldly wave my mind can tosse; I brooke that is another’s bane. I feare no foe, I fawne no friend; I lothe not life, nor dread mine end. I joy not in no earthly blisse; I weigh not Crœsus’ wealth a straw; For care, I care not what it is; I feare not fortune’s fatal law; My minde 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. I kisse not where I wish to kill; I feigne not love where most I hate; I breake no sleepe to winne my will; I wayte not at the mightie’s 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 feares no fall; This is my choyce; for why, I finde No wealth is like a quiet minde. My wealth is health and perfect ease; My conscience clere my chiefe defence; I neither seeke by bribes to please, Nor by desert to breed offence. Thus do I live; thus will I die; Would all did so as well as I!