Sonnet 25

Let those who are in favour with their starsOf public honour and proud titles boast,Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars,Unlook'd for joy in that I honour most. 4Great princes' favourites their fair leaves spreadBut as the marigold at the sun's eye,And in themselves their pride lies buried,For at a frown they in their glory die. 8The painful warrior famoused for fight,After a thousand victories once foil'd,Is from the book of honour razed quite,And all the rest forgot for which he toil'd: 12Then happy I, that love and am belov'd,Where I may not remove nor be remov'd.

4 Unlook'd for: unexpectedly6 But: only7 And in . . . buried: their pride soon perishes with them