How happy is he born and taught That serveth not another’s will; Whose armor is his honest thought, And simple truth his utmost skill! Whose passions not his masters are; Whose soul is still prepared for death, Not tied unto the world with care Of public fame or private breath; Who envies none that chance doth raise, Or vice; who never understood How deepest wounds are given by praise, Nor rules of state, but rules of good; Who hath his life from rumors freed; Whose conscience is his strong retreat; Whose state can neither flatterers feed, Nor ruin make accusers great; Who God doth late and early pray More of his grace than gifts to lend, And entertains the harmless day With a well-chosen book or friend,— This man is freed from servile bands Of hope to rise, or fear to fall; Lord of himself, though not of lands; And, having nothing, yet hath all.
The Character of a Happy Life
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Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia YOU meaner beauties of the night, That poorly satisfy our eyes More by your number than your light,— You common people of the skies, What are you when the moon shall rise? You curious chanters of the wood, That warble forth Dame Nature’s lays, Thinking your...
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How happy is he born and taught That serveth not another’s will; Whose armor is his honest thought, And simple truth his utmost skill! Whose passions not his masters are; Whose soul is still prepared for death, Not tied unto the world with care Of public fame or private breath; Who...
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You meaner beauties of the night,
That poorly satisfy our eyes
More by your number than your light,
You common people of the skies;
What are you when the moon shall rise?You curious chanters of the wood,
That warble forth Dame Nature's lays,
Thinking...