“Farewell, sweet boy”
by Fulke Greville (1554-1628)

Farewell, sweet boy, complain not of my truth;
Thy mother loved thee not with more devotion;
For to thy boy’s play I gave all my youth:
Young Master, I did hope for your promotion.

While some sought honours, princes’ thoughts observing,
Many wooed Fame, the child of pain and anguish,
Others judged inward good a chief deserving;
I in thy wanton visions joyed to languish.

I bowed not to the image for succession,
Nor bound thy bow to shoot reformèd kindness;
Thy plays of hope and fear were my confession,
The spectacles to my life was thy blindness.
      But Cupid now farewell, I will go play me,
      With thoughts that please me less, and less betray me.

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