On Contentment

O THOU! whose pow'r can sharpest grief assuage, Or stop the torrent of impetuous rage; Contentment, hear; Oh listen to my strain! Nor let the muse implore thy aid in vain; Teach me thro' life's advent'rous paths to go, T' enjoy the good, and calmly bear the woe; To view unmov'd the miser's hoarded store, Without a sigh, or greedy wish for more; To scorn the pomp, and pageantry of state, The empty shew, and titles of the great. Grant me to live a peaceful, rural life, Remote from envy and tumultuous strife; There may I pass each hour by virtue's rules, Nor vainly seek th' applauding breath of fools.

GLIDE on securely, wisely tread, The paths where truth and virtue lead. It matters not how great the man, If all's confin'd to life's short span; It matters not how rich or poor, Peace is no gift in human pow'r; They find her who contented dwell In the cool grot or mossy cell.