Works

Some time now past in the Autumnal Tide,
When Phoebus wanted but one hour to bed,
The trees all richly clad, yet void of pride,
Were gilded o'er by his rich golden head....

"A barbered woman's man,"--yes, so
He seemed to me a twelvemonth since;
And so he may be--let it go--
Admit his flaws--we need not wince
To find our noblest not all great....

When I behold how some pursue
Fame, that is Care's embodiment
Or fortune, whose false face looks true,
An humble home with sweet content
Is all I ask for me and you.
...

I have been wandering where the daisies grow,
Great fields of tall, white daisies, and I saw
Them bend reluctantly, and seem to draw
Away in pride when the fresh breeze would blow...

In some lone hamlet it were better far
To live unknown amid Contentment's isle,
Than court the bauble of an air-blown star,
Or barter honour for a prince's smile!
...

How is it that men pray their earthly lot
May be 'content and happiness'? Dire foes
Without one common trait which kinship shows
I hold these two. Contentment comes when sought,...

Among the meadows of Life's sad unease
In labor still renewing her soul's youth
With trust, for patience, and with love, for peace,
Singing she goes with the calm face of Ruth.

Tune - "Lumps o' Pudding."


I.

Contented wi' little, and cantie wi' mair,
Whene'er I forgather wi' sorrow end care,
I gie them a skelp, as they're creepin alang,...

Discreet and prudent we that discord call
That either profits, or not hurts at all.

Happy the man that, when his day is done,
Lies down to sleep with nothing of regret--
The battle he has fought may not be won--
The fame he sought be just as fleeting yet;...

"Man wants but little here below"

Little I ask; my wants are few;
I only wish a hut of stone,
(A very plain brown stone will do,)
That I may call my own; -
And close at hand is such a one,...

Glad hours have been when I have seen
Life's scope and each dry day's intent
United; so that I could stand
In silence, covering with my hand
The circle of the universe,...

After The Manner Of Horace.



Friend, there be they on whom mishap
Or never or so rarely comes,
That, when they think thereof, they snap
Derisive thumbs:
...

Fierce passions discompose the mind,
As tempests vex the sea:
But calm content and peace we find,
When, Lord, we turn to thee.


In vain by reason and by rule
We try to bend the will;...

'Tis not the food, but the content
That makes the table's merriment.
Where trouble serves the board, we eat
The platters there as soon as meat.
A little pipkin with a bit
Of mutton or of veal in it,...

The drowsy carrier sways
To the drowsy horses' tramp.
His axles winnow the sprays
Of the hedge where the rabbit plays
In the light of his single lamp.

He hears a roar behind,...

A door just opened on a street --
I, lost, was passing by --
An instant's width of warmth disclosed,
And wealth, and company.

The door as sudden shut, and I,
I, lost, was passing by, --...

I see the tall church steeples,
They reach so far, so far,
But the eyes of my heart see the world's great mart,
Where the starving people are.

I hear the church bells ringing...

No eve of summer ever can attain
The gladness of that eve of late July,
When 'mid the roses, filled with musk and rain,
Against the wondrous topaz of the sky,
I met you, leaning on the pasture bars, -...

If yo've a fancy for a spree,
Goa up to Lundun, same as me,
Yo'll find ther's lots o' things to see,
To pleeas yo weel.
If seem isn't quite enuff,
Yo needn't tew an waste yor puff,...