Happy Birthday, Edward

Today in 1550, Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford, was born.

He didn't write Shakespeare, but he did write plays and poems, and here's one:

Of fortunes power.

Policrates whose passing happe, causd him to lose his fate,
A golden ryng cast in the seas, to change his constant state,
And in a fishe yet at his bourd, the same he after found,
Thus Fortune loe, to whom she takes, for bountie dooth abound.

The myzers vnto might she mountes, a common case we see,
And mightie in great miserie, she sets in lowe degree:
Whom she to day dooth reare on hie, vpon her whirling wheele,
To morowe next she dingeth downe, and casteth at her heele.

No measure hath shee in her gifts, shee doth reward eache sort.
The wise that counsell haue, no more then fooles that maketh sport.
Shee vseth neuer partiall handes for to offend or please,
Geue me good Fortune all men sayes, and throw me in the seas.

It is no fault or worthines, that makes men fall or rise,
I rather be borne Fortunate, then to be very wise.
The blindest man right soone, that by good Fortune guided is,
To whome that pleasant Fortune pipes, can neuer daunce amis.

(more of Oxford's poems here)