University of Virginia Library

To M. Henrye Cobham of the most blessed state of Lyfe.

The happyest lyfe
that here we haue,
My Cobham yf
I shall desyne,
The goodlyest state,
twyrte byrth and graue,
Most gracious
dayes and swetest tyme.
The fayrest face,
of fadynge Lyfe,
Race ryghtlyest ronne,
in ruthfull wayes,
The safest meanes
to shun all stryfe:
The surest Staffe,
in fyckle Dayes:
I take not I
as some do take,
To gape and gawne,
for Honoures hye,
But Court and
Cayser to forsake,
And lyue at home,
full quyetlye,
I well do mynde,
what he once sayde,
Who bad, Courte not
in any case,
For Uertue is,
in Courtes decayed,
And Uyce with States,
hath chyefest place,
Not Courte but Countreye
I do iudge,
Is it wheare lyes,
the happyest lyfe,
In Countreye growes,
no gratynge grudge,
In Countreye standes
not sturdye stryfe,
In Countreye,
Bacchus hath no place,
In Countreye
Venus hath defecte,
In Countreye
Thraso hath no grace,
In Countreye
fewe of Gnatoes Secte.
But these same foure
and many moe,
In Courte,
thou shalt be sure to fynde,
For they haue vowed,
not thence to goe,
Bycause in Courte,
dwels ydle mynde.
In Countreye
mayste thou safelye rest,
And flye all these,
yf that thou lyste,
The Countrey therfore,
iudge I best,
Where godly lyfe,
doth vyce resyste,
Where vertuous
exercyse with ioye,
Doth spende the yeares
that are to run,
Where Uyces fewe,
maye the annoye,
This lyfe is best
whan all is done.