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.
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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
Ah, sweet Content, where doth thine harbour hold?
Ah, sweet Content, where doth thine harbour hold?
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.
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.
From labour health, from health contentment spring;
Contentment opes the source of every joy.
From labour health, from health contentment spring;
Contentment opes the source of every joy.
What happiness the rural maid attends,
In cheerful labour while each day she spends!
She gratefully receives read more
What happiness the rural maid attends,
In cheerful labour while each day she spends!
She gratefully receives what Heav'n has sent,
And, rich in poverty, enjoys content.
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.
Their wants but few, their wishes all confin'd.
Their wants but few, their wishes all confin'd.
We'll therefore relish with content,
Whate'er kind providence has sent,
Nor aim beyond our pow'r;
read more
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.
