Contentment

Joshua Sylvester (1563–1618)

I WEIGH not fortune’s frown or smile;

I joy not much in earthly 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 swound 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 never pleased;

I see some Tantals starved in store;

I see gold’s dropsy seldom eased;

I see even Midas gape for more;

I neither want nor yet abound,—

Enough ’s a feast, content is crowned.

I feign not friendship where 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.