THE SONNETS by William Shakespeare (25)

XXV

    Let those who are in favour with their stars Of public honour and proud titles boast, Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars Unlook'd for joy in that I honour most. Great princes' favourites their fair leaves spread But as the marigold at the sun's eye, And in themselves their pride lies buried, For at a frown they in their glory die. The painful warrior¹ famoused for fight, After a thousand victories once foil'd, Is from the book of honour razed² quite, And all the rest forgot for which he toil'd： Then happy I, that love and am belov'd, Where I may not remove nor be remov'd.