CONTENTMENT,
OR
THE HAPPY WORKMAN'S SONG.
I
I Am a poor Workman as rich as a Jew,—
A strange sort of Tale, but however 'tis true;
Come listen a while, and I'll prove it to you
So as Nobody can deny, &c.
II
I am a poor Workman, you'll easily grant;
And I'm rich as a Jew, for there's nothing I want;
I have Meat, Drink, and Cloaths, and am hearty and cant,
Which Nobody can deny, &c.
III
I live in a Cottage, and yonder it stands;
And while I can work with these two honest Hands,
I'm as happy as they that have Houses and Lands,
Which Nobody can deny, &c.
IV
I keep to my Workmanship all the Day long,
I sing and I whistle, and this is my Song:
“Thank God, That has made me so lusty and strong,”
Which Nobody can deny, &c.
V
I never am greedy of delicate Fare;
If He give me enough, tho' 'tis never so bare,
The more is His Love, and the less is my Care,
Which Nobody can deny, &c.
VI
My Clothes on a Working-day looken but lean;
But when I can dress me—on Sundays, I mean,—
Tho' cheap, they are warm, and tho' coarse, they are clean,
Which Nobody can deny, &c.
VII
Folk cry'n out “hard Times,” but I never regard,
For I ne'er did, nor will set my Heart upo'th' Ward;
So 'tis all one to me, bin they easy or hard,
Which Nobody can deny, &c.
VIII
I envy not them that have thousands of Pounds,
That sport o'er the Country with Horses and Hounds;
There's nought but Contentment can keep within bounds,
Which Nobody can deny, &c.
IX
I ne'er lose my Time o'er a Pipe, or a Pot,
Nor cower in a Nook like a sluggardly Sot;
But I buy what is wanting with what I have got,
Which Nobody can deny, &c.
X
And if I have more than I want for to spend,
I help a poor Neighbour or diligent Friend;
He that gives to the Poor, to the Lord he doth lend,
Which Nobody can deny, &c.
XI
I grudge not that Gentlefolk dressen so fine;
At their Gold and their Silver I never repine,
But I wish all their Guts were as hearty as mine,
Which Nobody can deny, &c.
XII
With Quarrels o'th' Country, and Matters of State,
With Tories and Whigs, I ne'er puzzle my Pate;
There's some that I love, and there's none that I hate,
Which Nobody can deny, &c.
XIII
What tho' my Condition be ever so coarse,
I strive to embrace it for better and worse;
And my Heart, I thank God, is as light as my Purse,
Which Nobody can deny, &c.
XIV
In short, my Condition, whatever it be,
'Tis God that appoints it, as far as I see;
And I'm sure I can never do better than He,
Which Nobody can deny, &c.
