Though I'm mew'd up, yet I can chirp and sing, LXXIX. Sir Roger L'Estrange. THE MEANS TO ATTAIN HAPPY LIFE. MARTIAL, the things that do attain The equal friend; no grudge, no strife; The mean diet, no delicate fare; True wisdom join'd with simpleness; Where wine the wit may not oppress; The faithful wife, without debate; Nor wish for death, nor fear his might. Earl of Surrey. LXXX. CONTENT. SWEET are the thoughts that savour of content :- The homely house that harbours quiet rest, Robert Greene. LXXXI. THE WISH. WELL then; I now do plainly see Does of all meats the soonest cloy; Ah, yet, ere I descend to th' grave, A mistress moderately fair, And good as guardian-angels are, Only beloved, and loving me! O, fountains! when in you shall I Myself, eased of unpeaceful thoughts, espy? O fields! O woods! when, when shall I be made The happy tenant of your shade? Here's the spring-head of Pleasure's flood; Where all the riches lie, that she Has coin'd and stamp'd for good. Pride and ambition here Only in far-fetch'd metaphors appear; Here nought but winds can hurtful murmurs scatter, And nought but Echo flatter. The gods, when they descended, hither From Heaven did always choose their way; And therefore we may boldly say That 'tis the way too thither. How happy here should I, And one dear She, live, and embracing die! I should have then this only fear Lest men, when they my pleasures see, Should hither throng to live like me, And so make a city here. Abraham Cowley. LXXXII. THE ANGLER'S WISH. I IN these flowery meads would be; Sit here, and see the turtle-dove Court his chaste mate to acts of love, Or on that bank feel the west wind Or, a laverock build her nest: And raise my low-pitch'd thoughts above Thus, free from lawsuits and the noise Or, with my Bryan and a book, And angle on and beg to have Izaak Walton. LXXXIII. THE CONTENTED MAN. HAPPY the man whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air In his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire; Whose trees in summer yield him shade, In winter, fire. Blest, who can unconcern'dly find Hours, days, and years slide soft away In health of body, peace of mind, Quiet by day, Sound sleep by night; study and ease Thus let me live unseen, unknown; Steal from the world, and not a stone Tell where I lie. Alexander Pope. LXXXIV. THERE is none, O none but you, And chained ears hear with delight. Others' beauties others move : In you I all the graces find; Such are the effects of love, To make them happy that are kind, Women in frail beauty trust; For that can't dissembled be. Dear, afford me then your sight! That, surveying all your looks, And fill the world with envied books. Which, when after ages view, LXXXV. Robert, Earl of Essex. TELL me no more I am deceived, But O! her thoughts on others ran; You think she's false, I'm sure she's kind, I take her body, you her mind, Who has the better bargain? William Congreve. LXXXVI. FORTUNE. A Fragment. FORTUNE, that, with malicious joy, Proud of her office to destroy, I can enjoy her while she's kind; |