Contented wi' little, and cantie wi' mair.

Contented wi' little, and cantie wi' mair.

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.

Give what thou canst, without Thee we are poor;
And with Thee rich, take what Thou wilt away.

Give what thou canst, without Thee we are poor;
And with Thee rich, take what Thou wilt away.

We'll therefore relish with content,
Whate'er kind providence has sent,
Nor aim beyond our pow'r;
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We'll therefore relish with content,
Whate'er kind providence has sent,
Nor aim beyond our pow'r;
For, if our stock be very small,
'Tis prudent to enjoy it all,
Nor lose the present hour.

Happy am I; from care I'm free!
Why aren't they all contented like me?

Happy am I; from care I'm free!
Why aren't they all contented like me?

With more of thanks and less of thought,
I strive to make my matters meet;
To seek read more

With more of thanks and less of thought,
I strive to make my matters meet;
To seek what ancient sages sought,
Physic and food in sour and sweet,
To take what passes in good part,
And keep the hiccups from the heart.

Ah, sweet Content, where doth thine harbour hold?

Ah, sweet Content, where doth thine harbour hold?

I would do what I pleased, and doing what I pleased, I should
have my will, and having my read more

I would do what I pleased, and doing what I pleased, I should
have my will, and having my will, I should be contented; and when
one is contented, there is no more to be desired; and when there
is no more to be desired, there is an end of it.

In Paris a queer little man you may see,
A little man all in gray;
Rosy and read more

In Paris a queer little man you may see,
A little man all in gray;
Rosy and round as an apple is he,
Content with the present whate'er it may be,
While from care and from cash he is equally free,
And merry both night and day!
"Ma foi! I laugh at the world," says he,
"I laugh at the world, and the world laughs at me!"
What a gay little man in gray.