HADST thou been such as, boasting of their birth,
Pass by the humbler-born with proud disdain,
Making self-merit of the antique worth
Whereby some sire that state for them did gain;
Had riches’ dross so reign’d in thy respect,
That riches’ lack were deem’d by thee disgrace;
Of thy rare parts had ’t been the rude effect,
That cruel pride held gentle pity’s place;
Then would’st thou ne’er have look’d on lowly me,
To find what merit there thou might’st approve,
Nor would my heart, grown warm for haughty thee,
Dare or desire to clamour for thy love.
But all thy gifts were made more rich, more rare,
By inward sweetness kind beyond compare.