 | The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") |  |
CONTENT.
Of all the riches great
Which men accumulate,
Or gold, or jewels rare,
Or acres broad and fair,
One treasure far surpasses
The heap which greed amasses;
Surest our needs to meet,
And make our life complete,
Safer than bonds or rent—
The gem they call Content.
Which men accumulate,
Or gold, or jewels rare,
Or acres broad and fair,
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The heap which greed amasses;
Surest our needs to meet,
And make our life complete,
Safer than bonds or rent—
The gem they call Content.
If that be in his keep,
A man may dreamless sleep,
Quiet his days and nights;
No care his soul affrights;
No worriment perplexes;
No vain ambition vexes;
Who drops or holds the crown,
Which side is up or down,
Is scarcely an event,
And mars not his Content.
A man may dreamless sleep,
Quiet his days and nights;
No care his soul affrights;
No worriment perplexes;
No vain ambition vexes;
Who drops or holds the crown,
Which side is up or down,
Is scarcely an event,
And mars not his Content.
The peat-hut on the shore
Of rocky Labrador,
Or cabin rude, which stands
Upon the bottom lands
Somewhere in Western valleys—
In either is a palace
Fair built and furnished well;
And, should he in it dwell,
It glows magnificent,
Gilded by his Content.
Of rocky Labrador,
Or cabin rude, which stands
Upon the bottom lands
Somewhere in Western valleys—
In either is a palace
Fair built and furnished well;
And, should he in it dwell,
It glows magnificent,
Gilded by his Content.
They do not vex his eye,
The rich who pass him by;
Their coaches past him roll,
But trouble not his soul;
Not his the loud complaint is
That others feed on dainties,
While on his board are spread
His frugal cheese and bread;
For fate to him has sent
Its richest sauce, Content.
The rich who pass him by;
Their coaches past him roll,
But trouble not his soul;
Not his the loud complaint is
That others feed on dainties,
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His frugal cheese and bread;
For fate to him has sent
Its richest sauce, Content.
Ah! happy is his lot
Who others envies not,
Who never is opprest
By longing or unrest;
But, still his duty doing,
His even way pursuing,
Bears patiently what load
Is his upon the road,
And, after life well spent,
Meets death with calm Content.
Who others envies not,
Who never is opprest
By longing or unrest;
But, still his duty doing,
His even way pursuing,
Bears patiently what load
Is his upon the road,
And, after life well spent,
Meets death with calm Content.
| The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | |