Page:Astrophel and other poems (IA astrophelotherpo00swiniala).pdf/227

 Men live that serve the stranger; Hounds live that huntsmen tame: These life-days of our living Are days of God's good giving Where death smiles soft on danger And life scowls dark on shame.

And what would you do other, Sweet wife, if you were I? And how should you be other, My sister, than your brother, If you were man as I, Born of our sire and mother, With choice to cower and fly, And chance to strike and die?

No churl's our oldworld name is, The lands we leave are fair: But fairer far than these are, But wide as all the seas are, But high as heaven the fame is That if we die we share.