SECTION 2. The blind boy. O SAY, what is that thing call'd Light, You talk of wond'rous things you see; My day or night myself I make, And could I ever keep awake, With heavy sighs I often hear Then let not what I cannot have, SECTION 3. The contented man. AN honest, sober man, a hedger and ditcher, Though he was poor, did not covet to be richer; For all such vain wishes to him were prevented, By a fortunate habit of being contented. Though cold was the weather, or dear was the food, What he could not prevent, he would cheerfully bear, "And why should I grumble and murmur?" he said, "If I cannot get meat, I can surely get bread : And though fretting may make my calamities deeper, It never can cause bread and meat to be cheaper." If John was afflicted with sickness or pain, If any one wrong'd him, or treated him ill, And thus honest John, though his station was humble, Pass'd through this sad world without even a grumble: And I wish that some folks, who're greater and richer, Would copy honest John, the hedger and ditcher. SECTION 4. Christian resignation, WHATE'ER betided, Joseph thought it was right; And Providence still he kept ever in sight: To those who love God, let things turn as they would, He was certain that all work'd together for good. He prais'd his Creator whatever befell: How thankful was Joseph when matters went well! In trouble, he bow'd him to God's holy will: If the land was afflicted with war, he declar'd When taxes ran high, and provisions were dear, From HIM who makes all work together for good. Though his wife was but sickly, his gettings but small, He liv'd on his gains, were they greater or less; When another child came, he receiv'd him with joy; SECTION 5. The happy workman, I AM a poor workman, as rich as a Jew: I am a poor workman, you'll easily grant ; And I'm rich as a Jew, for there's nothing I want: I've meat, drink, and clothes, and with these I'm content. I live in a cottage, and yonder it stands; And while I can work with these two honest hands, I keep to my workmanship all the day long: I never am greedy of delicate fare : If He gives me enough, though 'tis never so bare, Though my clothes on a working-day look but lean; Folks cry out hard times; but I never regard; For I ne'er did, nor e'er will, set my heart earthward : I envy not them that have thousands of pounds; I ne'er lose my time o'er a pipe or a pot, Nor lurk in a nook, like a sluggardly sot: But I buy what is wanting with what I have got, And if I have more than I want for to spend, "He that gives to the poor, to the Lord he doth lend," I grudge not that gentlefolks dress themselves fine; With quarrels o' th' country, and matters of state, What though my condition be ever so coarse, In short, my condition, whatever it be, "Tis God that appoints it, for aught I can see; And I'm sure I can never do better than HE. SECTION 6. The cottager's Saturday night. NOVEMBER chill blows loud, with angry brow; And weary, o'er the moor, his course doth homeward bend. At length, his lonely cot appears in view, Beneath the shelter of an aged tree; Th' expectant young ones, tott'ring, stagger through, To meet their dad, with prattling noise and glee. |