Medulla Poetarum Romanorum Or, the Most Beautiful and Instructive Passages of the Roman Poets. Being a Collection, (Disposed under proper Heads,) Of such Descriptions, Allusions, Comparisons, Characters, and Sentiments, as may best serve to shew the Religion, Learning, Politicks, Arts, Customs, Opinions, Manners, and Circumstances of the Antients. With Translations of the same in English Verse. By Mr. Henry Baker |
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Discontent.
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 | Medulla Poetarum Romanorum |  |
Discontent.
See Care.
My Lord, how comes it, no One lives content,
With what himself has chose, or Fortune sent:
But madly doting on his Neighbour's Lot,
Contemns th' Advantages his own has got?
With what himself has chose, or Fortune sent:
But madly doting on his Neighbour's Lot,
Contemns th' Advantages his own has got?
O happy Merchant! the old Soldier cries,
Broke with Fatigue and martial Exercise.
The Merchant, by the Billows toss'd on high,
Cries, happy is the Soldier's Fate: for why,
A Battle soon brings Death, or joyful Victory.
Broke with Fatigue and martial Exercise.
The Merchant, by the Billows toss'd on high,
Cries, happy is the Soldier's Fate: for why,
A Battle soon brings Death, or joyful Victory.
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The hurrying Lawyer, calls the Farmer blest,
When early Clients interrupt his Rest.
The Farmer, whom some Business of the Law,
Does from the Country to the City draw,
Extols the Pleasures of the gaudy Town,
And thinks a City Life the only one.—
Your Country Life I judge an Happiness,
When early Clients interrupt his Rest.
The Farmer, whom some Business of the Law,
Does from the Country to the City draw,
Extols the Pleasures of the gaudy Town,
And thinks a City Life the only one.—
And mine in Town, you fancy, is no less:
Fond of each other's Lot, we hate our own,
And wrongly blame the Country, or the Town:
Fools both! for in the Place no Fault does lie,
But in the Mind,—from which there's none can fly.—
| Medulla Poetarum Romanorum | |