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Sweet are the thoughts that savour of content;
The quiet mind is richer than a crown;
Sweet read more
Sweet are the thoughts that savour of content;
The quiet mind is richer than a crown;
Sweet are the nights in careless slumber spent;
The poor estate scorns fortune's angry frown:
Such sweet content, such minds, such sleep, such bliss,
Beggars enjoy, when princes oft do miss.
I'll be merry and free,
I'll be sad for nae-body;
If nae-body cares for me,
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I'll be merry and free,
I'll be sad for nae-body;
If nae-body cares for me,
I'll care for nae-body.
To be content with little is hard; to be content with much, impossible
To be content with little is hard; to be content with much, impossible
Where wealth and freedom reign, contentment fails,
And honour sinks where commerce long prevails.
Where wealth and freedom reign, contentment fails,
And honour sinks where commerce long prevails.
Happy the man, of mortals happiest he,
Whose quiet mind from vain desires is free;
Whom neither read more
Happy the man, of mortals happiest he,
Whose quiet mind from vain desires is free;
Whom neither hopes deceive, nor fears torment,
But lives at peace, within himself content;
In thought, or act, accountable to none
But to himself, and to the gods alone.
Let me posses what I now have, or even less, so that I may enjoy
my remaining days, if read more
Let me posses what I now have, or even less, so that I may enjoy
my remaining days, if Heaven grant any to remain.
[Lat., Sit mihi quod nunc est, etiam minus et mihi vivam
Quod superest aevi--si quid superesse volunt di.]
Let's live with that small pittance which we have;
Who covets more is evermore a slave.
Let's live with that small pittance which we have;
Who covets more is evermore a slave.
Nobody got anywhere in the world by simply being content.
Nobody got anywhere in the world by simply being content.
In a cottage I live, and the cot of content,
Where a few little rooms for ambition too low,
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In a cottage I live, and the cot of content,
Where a few little rooms for ambition too low,
Are furnish'd as plain as a patriarch's tent,
With all for convenience, but nothing for show:
Like Robinson Crusoe's, both peaceful and pleasant,
By industry stor'd, like the hive of a bee;
And the peer who looks down with contempt on a peasant.
Can ne'er be look'd up to with envy by me.