A sweet and pleasant Sonnet, entitled: My mind to me a kingdom is.  
To the tune of, In Crect, &c,  
 

My mind to me a Kingdom is,  
such perfect joys therein I find,  
It fare exceeds all earthly bliss,  
that world affords, or grows by kind:  
Though much I want that most men have,  
Yet doth my mind forbidden me crave.   

Content I live, this is my stay,  
I seek no more than may suffice,  
I press to bear no haughty sway,  
look what I lack my mind supplies:  
Lo, thus I triumph like a King.  
Content with that my mind doth bring.   

I see how plenty surfeits oft,  
and hasty climbers oft do fall,  
I see how those that sit aloft,  
mishap doth threaten most of all,  
They get, they toil, they spend with care,  
Such care my mind could never bear.   

I laugh not at another's loss,  
I grudge not at another's gain,  
No worldly wave my mind can toss,  
I brook that is another's bane:  
I fear no foe, I scorn no friend,  
I dread no death, I fear no end.   

Some have too much, yet still they crave,  
I little have, yet seek no more,  
They are but poor, though much they have,  
And I am rich with little store,  
They poor, I rich, they beg, I give,  
They lack, I lend, they pine, I live.   

My wealth is health and perfect ease,  
my conscience clear, my chief defence▪  
I never seek by bribes to please,  
nor by desert to give offence:  
Lo thus I live, thus will I die,  
Would all did so as well as I.   

No princely pomp, no wealthy store,  
no force to get the victory,  
No wily wit to salve a sore,  
no shape to win a Lover's eye,  
To none of these I yield as thrall,  
For why my mind despiseth all.   

I joy not at an earthly bliss,  
I weigh not Croesus' wealth a straw,  
For Care, I care not what it is,  
I fear not Fortunes fatal law:  
My mind is such as may not move,  
For beauty bright or force of love:   

I wish not what I have at will,  
I wander not to seek for more,  
I like the plain, I climb no hill,  
in greatest storm I sit on shore,  
And laugh at those that toil in vain,  
To get that must be lost again.   

I kiss not were I wish to kill,  
I feign no love where most I hate,  
I break no sleep to win my will,  
I wait not at the mighties gate,  
I scorn no poor, I fear no rich,  
I feel no want, nor have too much.   

The Court, ne Cart, I like, ne loath,  
extremes are counted worst of all,  
The golden means betwixt them both,  
both farest sit, and fears no fall:  
This is my choice, for why I find,  
No wealth is like a quiet mind.   
FINIS.   

Printed at London for H.G.