Sonnet 1

Three men were sitting at a table long,
In jollity they cheered their wants with word,
The first man said, “of wealth I sing my song”
for coins, I wish to place upon her gird;
The next, he laughed and said, “I think it wise,”
to wish for deeds of great to win her heart;”
The last, he sighed and said, “I know it dies,
I wish to own her grace, my life to start.”

But I, I wished for that which praised is not,
And that which spureth hearts of steel to scorn
by those whom wishist for a greater lot,
They know not moon which raisest all forlorn.

And thus I wished, but neither fate nor force,
Can alter human form to that of horse.