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.

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.]

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.

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 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.]

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?

Nobody got anywhere in the world by simply being content.

Nobody got anywhere in the world by simply being content.

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.

In a cottage I live, and the cot of content,
Where a few little rooms for ambition too low,
read more

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.