The more a man denies himself, the more he shall receive from
heaven. Naked, I seek the camp of read more

The more a man denies himself, the more he shall receive from
heaven. Naked, I seek the camp of those who covet nothing.
[Lat., Quanto quisque sibi plura negaverit,
A dis plura feret. Nil cupientium
Nudus castra peto.]

Some things are of that nature as to make
One's fancy chuckle, while his heart doth ache.

Some things are of that nature as to make
One's fancy chuckle, while his heart doth ache.

To be content with little is hard; to be content with much, impossible

To be content with little is hard; to be content with much, impossible

What happiness the rural maid attends,
In cheerful labour while each day she spends!
She gratefully receives read more

What happiness the rural maid attends,
In cheerful labour while each day she spends!
She gratefully receives what Heav'n has sent,
And, rich in poverty, enjoys content.

In a cottage I live, and the cot of content,
Where a few little rooms for ambition too low,
read more

In a cottage I live, and the cot of content,
Where a few little rooms for ambition too low,
Are furnish'd as plain as a patriarch's tent,
With all for convenience, but nothing for show:
Like Robinson Crusoe's, both peaceful and pleasant,
By industry stor'd, like the hive of a bee;
And the peer who looks down with contempt on a peasant.
Can ne'er be look'd up to with envy by me.

Give what thou canst, without Thee we are poor;
And with Thee rich, take what Thou wilt away.

Give what thou canst, without Thee we are poor;
And with Thee rich, take what Thou wilt away.

With more of thanks and less of thought,
I strive to make my matters meet;
To seek read more

With more of thanks and less of thought,
I strive to make my matters meet;
To seek what ancient sages sought,
Physic and food in sour and sweet,
To take what passes in good part,
And keep the hiccups from the heart.

From labour health, from health contentment spring;
Contentment opes the source of every joy.

From labour health, from health contentment spring;
Contentment opes the source of every joy.

In Paris a queer little man you may see,
A little man all in gray;
Rosy and read more

In Paris a queer little man you may see,
A little man all in gray;
Rosy and round as an apple is he,
Content with the present whate'er it may be,
While from care and from cash he is equally free,
And merry both night and day!
"Ma foi! I laugh at the world," says he,
"I laugh at the world, and the world laughs at me!"
What a gay little man in gray.