CONTENTMENT. BY L. H. SIGOURNEY. THINK'ST thou the steed that restless roves Intent to store her industry Within her waxen round? Think'st thou the fountain forced to turn Than that which, in its native sphere, Flows, the lone traveller's thirst to cheer, Think'st thou the man whose mansions hold Than he who, in his cot at rest, Finds heavenly peace, a willing guest, And bears the promise in his breast Of treasure in the skies? HAPPINESS OF THE SHEPHERD'S BY GILES AND PHINEAS FLETCHER. THRICE, oh, thrice happy, shepherd's life and state! Shut out proud Fortune, with her scorns ami fawns: No feared treason breaks his quiet sleep : Is full of thousand sweets, and rich content: him With coolest shades, till noon-tide rage is spent: His life is neither toss'd in boist'rous seas Of troublous world, nor lost in slothful ease; Pleased, and full blest he lives, when he his God please. His bed of wool yields safe and quiet sleeps, Never his humble house nor state torment him; THE RICHEST JEWELL. THERE is a jewel which no Indian mine can buy, It makes men rich in greatest poverty, HALBERT. BY SHERIDAN KNOWLES. SIR, you do me wrong; I boast no virtue when I claim content With that which you have left me;-would not change My naked turret, in its mountain hold, Reached by the path along whose rugged steeps sir: Most miserable Is the desire that's glorious: blessed be those, Which seasons comfort. Shakespear. |