Reliques of Ancient English Poetry consisting of Old Heroic Ballads, Songs, and other Pieces of our earlier Poets, (Chiefly of the Lyric kind.) Together with some few of later Date |
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| XII. | XII. THE CHARACTER OF A HAPPY LIFE. |
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 | Reliques of Ancient English Poetry |  |
XII. THE CHARACTER OF A HAPPY LIFE.
[_]
This little moral poem was writ by Sir Henry Wotton, who died Provost of Eaton, in 1639. Æt. 72. It is printed from a little collection of his pieces, intitled Reliquiæ Wottonianæ, 1651. 12mo; compared with one or two other copies.
320
How happy is he born or taught,
That serveth not anothers will;
Whose armour is his honest thought,
And simple truth his highest skill:
That serveth not anothers will;
Whose armour is his honest thought,
And simple truth his highest skill:
Whose passions not his masters are;
Whose soul is still prepar'd for death;
Not ty'd unto the world with care
Of princes ear, or vulgar breath:
Whose soul is still prepar'd for death;
Not ty'd unto the world with care
Of princes ear, or vulgar breath:
Who hath his life from rumours freed;
Whose conscience is his strong retreat;
Whose state can neither flatterers feed,
Nor ruine make oppressors great:
Whose conscience is his strong retreat;
Whose state can neither flatterers feed,
Nor ruine make oppressors great:
Who envies none, whom chance doth raise,
Or vice: Who never understood
How deepest wounds are given with praise;
Nor rules of state, but rules of good:
Or vice: Who never understood
How deepest wounds are given with praise;
Nor rules of state, but rules of good:
Who God doth late and early pray
More of his grace than gifts to lend;
And entertaines the harmless day
With a well-chosen book or friend.
More of his grace than gifts to lend;
And entertaines the harmless day
With a well-chosen book or friend.
This man is freed from servile bands
Of hope to rise, or feare to fall;
Lord of himselfe, though not of lands;
And having nothing, yet hath all.
Of hope to rise, or feare to fall;
Lord of himselfe, though not of lands;
And having nothing, yet hath all.
| Reliques of Ancient English Poetry | |