I weigh not fortune’s frown or smile;
I joy not much in early joys.
I seek not state; I reck not style;
I am not fond of fancy’s toys,
I rest so pleased with what I have,
I wish no more, no more I crave.
I quake not at the thunder’s crack;
I tremble not at news of war;
I swoon not at the news of wrack;
I shrink not at a blazing star,
I fear not loss, I hope not gain;
I envy none, I none disdain.
I see ambition over pleased;
I see some Tantzls starved in store;
I see gold’s dropsy seldom eased;
I see e’en Midas gape for more,
I neither want nor yet abound -
Enough’s a feast: content is crowned.
I feign not friendship when I hate;
I fawn not on the great, in show,
I prize, I praise, a mean estate -
Neither too lofty nor too low,
This, this is all my choice, my cheer -
A mind content, a conscience clear.
