All were too little for the merchant's hand, <br />And yet my bravery bigger than his book; <br />But when this hot account was coldly scanned, <br />I thought high time about me for to look. <br />With heavenly cheer I cast my head aback <br />To see the fountain of my furious race, <br />Compared my loss, my living, and my lack <br />In equal balance with my jolly grace, <br />And saw expenses grating on the ground <br />Like lumps of lead to press my purse full oft, <br />When light reward and recompense were found, <br />Fleeting like feathers in the wind aloft. <br />These thus compared, I left the Court at large, <br />For why the gains doth seldom quit the charge.<br /><br />George Gascoigne<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-v-13/
