And feels no tides to change it from its place,
No waves to alter the fair form it bears:
As that unspotted sky,
Where Nile does want of rain supply,
Is free from clouds, from storms is ever free:
So thy unvaried mind was always one,
And with such clear serenity still shone,
As caused thy little world to seem all temperate zone.
22
And greatness, which no travail, but their mother's cost;
Let them extol a swelling name,
Which theirs by will and testament became—
At best but mere inheritance,
As oft the spoils, as gift, of chance;
Let some ill-placed repute on scutcheons rear,
As fading as the colours which those bear,
And prize a painted field,
Which wealth as soon as fame can yield;
Thou scornedst at such low rates to purchase worth,
Nor couldst thou owe it only to thy birth,
Thy self-born greatness was above the power
Of parents to entail, or fortune to deflower.
Thy soul, which, like the sun, heaven moulded bright.
Disdained to shine with borrowed light:
Thus from himself the eternal being grew,
And from no other cause his grandeur drew.
23
Rather in souls than in the blood does lie:
If from thy better part we measures take,
And that the standard of our value make,
Jewels and stars become low heraldry
To blazon thee.
Thy soul was big enough to pity kings,
And looked on empires as poor humble things;
