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.
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Happy am I; from care I'm free!
Why aren't they all contented like me?
Happy am I; from care I'm free!
Why aren't they all contented like me?
Then answered Peter, and said unto Jesus, Lord, it is good for us
to be here: if thou wilt, read more
Then answered Peter, and said unto Jesus, Lord, it is good for us
to be here: if thou wilt, let us make here three tabernacles;
one for thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elias.
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.
Sweet are the thoughts that savour of content;
The quiet mind is richer than a crown;
Sweet read more
Sweet are the thoughts that savour of content;
The quiet mind is richer than a crown;
Sweet are the nights in careless slumber spent;
The poor estate scorns fortune's angry frown:
Such sweet content, such minds, such sleep, such bliss,
Beggars enjoy, when princes oft do miss.
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
Let's live with that small pittance which we have;
Who covets more is evermore a slave.
Let's live with that small pittance which we have;
Who covets more is evermore a slave.
Ten poor men sleep in peace on one straw heap, as Saadi sings,
But the immensest empire is too read more
Ten poor men sleep in peace on one straw heap, as Saadi sings,
But the immensest empire is too narrow for two kings.
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.
There was a jolly miller once,
Lived on the River Dee;
He worked and sang, from morn read more
There was a jolly miller once,
Lived on the River Dee;
He worked and sang, from morn to night;
No lark so blithe as he.
And this the burden of his song,
Forever used to be,--
"I care for nobody, not I,
If no one cares for me."
