University of Virginia Library

THE HAPPY LIFE.

O blessed man! who, homely bredd,
In lowly Cell can passe his dayes,
Feeding on his well gotten bread;
And hath his Gods, not others wayes.
That doth into a prayer wake,
And Riseing (not to bribes or bands)
The powre that doth him happy make,
Hath both his knees, as well as hands.
His Threshold he doth not forsake,
Or for the Cittyes Cates, or Trymme;
His plough, his flock, his Sythe, and Rake,
Doe physicke, Clothe, and nourish him.
By some sweet streame, cleere as his thought,
He seates him wth his Booke & lyne;
And though his hand haue nothing caught,
His mynde hath wherevpon to dyne:

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He hath a Table furnisht strong,
To Feast a friend, no flattering Snare,
And hath a iudgment & a Tongue,
That know to wellcome & beware.
His afternoone spent as the prime
Inviting where he mirthfull supps;
Labour, & seasonable time,
Brings him to bedd & not his cupps.
Yet, ere he take him to his rest,
For this & for their last repayre,
He, with his houshold meek addrest,
Offer their sacrifice of prayer.
If then a louing wife he meets,
Such as A Good Man should lye by;
Blest Eden is, betwixt these sheets.
Thus would I liue, thus Would I Dye.