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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.
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.
There was a jolly miller once,
Lived on the River Dee;
He worked and sang, from morn read more
There was a jolly miller once,
Lived on the River Dee;
He worked and sang, from morn to night;
No lark so blithe as he.
And this the burden of his song,
Forever used to be,--
"I care for nobody, not I,
If no one cares for me."
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.]
Their wants but few, their wishes all confin'd.
Their wants but few, their wishes all confin'd.
The more a man denies himself, the more he shall receive from
heaven. Naked, I seek the camp of read more
The more a man denies himself, the more he shall receive from
heaven. Naked, I seek the camp of those who covet nothing.
[Lat., Quanto quisque sibi plura negaverit,
A dis plura feret. Nil cupientium
Nudus castra peto.]
Some things are of that nature as to make
One's fancy chuckle, while his heart doth ache.
Some things are of that nature as to make
One's fancy chuckle, while his heart doth ache.
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 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.