My choice is made, and I desire no change;
My wandering thoughts in limits now are bound.
The deserts wild wherein my wits did range
Are now made easy walks and pleasant ground.
Let him that list soothe humours that be vain,
Till vanity ail mean exceeds;
Let passions still possess the idle brain,
And care consume whom folly feeds.
I rest resolved no fancy's fits can me estrange;
My choice is made, and I desire no more to change.

Change they their choice to whose delicious sense
The strangest objects are of most esteem.
Inconstant liking may find excellence
In things which being not good yet best do seem.
Let gallant bloods stili crown their sports with joy,
Whom honour, wealth and pleasure fills,
Let sweet contentment never find annoy
While Fortune frames things to their wills.
This stirs not me, I am the same I was before;
My choice is made, and I desire to change no more.

Be my choice blamed, or be I thought unwise
To hold my choice by others not approved,
I say that to myself I fall or rise,
By fear or force I cannot be removed.
Let friends in pity doubt of my success;
Their pity gets no thanks at ail;
Let foes be glad to see my hopes grow less,
I scorn the worst that wish they shall.
Stili stand I firm, my heart is set and shall remain,
My choice is made, and never will I change again.