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.

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.

Ten poor men sleep in peace on one straw heap, as Saadi sings,
But the immensest empire is too read more

Ten poor men sleep in peace on one straw heap, as Saadi sings,
But the immensest empire is too narrow for two kings.

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.

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.

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.

Ah, sweet Content, where doth thine harbour hold?

Ah, sweet Content, where doth thine harbour hold?

Then answered Peter, and said unto Jesus, Lord, it is good for us
to be here: if thou wilt, read more

Then answered Peter, and said unto Jesus, Lord, it is good for us
to be here: if thou wilt, let us make here three tabernacles;
one for thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elias.

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."