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Discontent
Sigh not for richer lands, nor milder skies,Ye whom these hills and ocean's prospect bound;
Within the mind itself man's fortune lies,
And where men are, are power and riches found.
Sigh not for California's golden strand,
Nor covet the broad prairies' richer soil;
By steady industry on sea and land,
Your frugal wants supply by honest toil;
And richer harvests in the virtues reap
Of those, who made these rocky shores their home,
And here on sunny hill-sides saintly sleep;
Than they, who to earth's farthest borders roam;
For these have left to earth, and sea, and sky,
A beauty of the soul that cannot die!
Poem No. 421; c. 1878–80
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