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Tumultuous days, and restless nights,
Ambition ever knows,
Of study and repose.
Then free from envy, care, and strife,
Keep me, ye powers divine;
May I that life resign.
THE CHARACTER OF A HAPPY LIFE.
BY SIR HENRY WOTTON.
That serveth not anothers will ;
And simple truth his utmost kill.
Whose passions not his masters are,
Whose soul is still prepar'd for death; Untied unto the world by care
Of publick fame, or private breath.
Who envies none that chance doth raise,
Nor vice hath ever understood;
Nor rules of fate, but rules of good.
Who hath his life from rumours freed,
Whose conscience is his strong retreat : Whose state can neither flatterers feed,
Nor ruin make oppressors great.
Who God doth late and early pray,
More of his grace than gifts to lend: And entertains the harmless day
With a religious book or friend.
This man is freed from servile hands,
Of hope to rise, or fear to fall: Lord of himself, though not of lands,
And having nothing, yet hath all.
s 0 N G VI.
BY HILDEBRAND JACOB ESQ.
Those powerful rulers of the fate,
Far happier the shepherds swain,
No curs'd ambition breaks his rest,
THAT man in his wits, had not rather be poot,
Than for lucre his freedom to give ? Ever busy the means of his life to secure,
And so ever neglecting to live ?
Inviron'd from morning to night in a croud,
Not a moment unbent, or alone :
And at every ones call but his own :
Still repining and longing for quiet each hour,
Yet studiously flying it still;
But accurft with his wanting the will.
For a year must be past, or a day must be come,
Before he has leisure to rest :
And then will have time to be bleft.
But his gains, more bewitching the more they increase,
Only swell the desire of his eye:
Ambition is nothing to me;
Is a mind independent and free.
With passions unruffled, untainted with pride,
life let me square ;
And the rest are but folly and care.
The blessings which Providence freely has lent,
I'll juftly and gratefully prize;
Shall make me both healthful and wise.
In the pleasures the great mans possessions display,
Unenvied I'll challenge my part;
Contributes to gladden my heart.
How vainly, through infinite trouble and strife,
The many their labours employ! Since all that is truly delightful in life
Is what all, if they please, may enjoy.
OME hoist up Fortune to the skies,
Others debase her to a bubble : I nor her frowns nor favours prize,
Nor think the changeling worth my trouble.
If at my door she chance to light,
I civilly my guest receive ;
Nor murmur when she takes her leave.
Though prosperous gales my canvas croud,
Though smooth the waves, serene the sky, I trust not calms; they storms forebode,
And speak th' approaching tempest nigh.