_Contentment In Nature_

I WOULD not change my joys for those Of Emperors and Kings. What has my gentle friend the rose Told them, if aught, do you suppose-- The rose that tells me things?

What secrets have they had with trees? What romps with grassy spears? What know they of the mysteries Of butterflies and honey-bees, Who whisper in my ears?

What says the sunbeam unto them? What tales have brooklets told? Is there within their diadem A single rival to the gem The dewy daisies hold?

What sympathy have they with birds Whose songs are songs of mine? Do they e'er hear, as though in words 'Twas lisped, the message of the herds Of grazing, lowing kine?

Ah no! Give me no lofty throne, But just what Nature yields. Let me but wander on, alone If need be, so that all my own Are woods and dales and fields.