And every year a world my will did deem, <br />Till lo! at last, to Court now am I come, <br />A seemly swain that might the place beseem, <br />A gladsome guest embraced by all and some. <br />Not there content with common dignity, <br />My wandering eye in haste (yea post post haste) <br />Beheld the blazing badge of bravery, <br />For want whereof I thought myself disgraced. <br />Then peevish pride puffed up my swelling heart, <br />To further forth so hot an enterprise; <br />And comely cost began to play his part <br />In praising patterns of mine own devise. <br />Thus all was good and might be got in haste, <br />To prink me up, and make me higher placed.<br /><br />George Gascoigne<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-iii-14/
