Miller of Gloucestershire/The happy workman

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Miller of Gloucestershire (1810)
The Happy Workman
3225178Miller of Gloucestershire — The Happy Workman1810




The Happy Workman.

I am a poor workman, as rich as a Jew:
A strange sort of tale! but however ’tis true:
Come listen awhile, and I’ll prove it to you.

I am a poor workman, you’ll easily grant;
And I’m as rich as a Jew, for there’s nothing want:
I have meat, drink, and clothes, and with them I’m content.

I live in a cottage, and yonder it stands;
And while I can work with these two honest hands,
I’m as happy as they that have houses and lands

I keep to my workmanship all the day long:
I sing and I whistle, and this is my song;
“Thank God who has made me so lusty and strong.”

I never am greedy of delicate fare:
If he gives me enough, though ’tis never so bare,
The more is his love, and the left is my care.

Though my clothes on a Workingday look but lean;
Yet when I can dress me,—on Sundays I mean,
Though cheap, they me warm; and though coarse, they are clean.

Folks cry out hard times, but I never regard;
For I ne’er did, nor e’er will let my heart earthward:
So ’tis all one to me be they easy or hard.

I envy not them that have thousands of pounds
That sport o’er the country with homes an hounds;
There’s naught but contentment can keep within bounds.

I ne’er lose my time o’er a pipe and a pot,
Nor lurk in a nook, like a flugga'rdly lot:
But I buy what is wanting with what I have got

And if I have more then I want for to spend,
I help a poor neighbour, or diligent friend;
“He that gives to the poor, to the Lord he does lend.”

I grudge not that gentlefolk dress themselves;
At their gold and their silver I never repine
But I wish their insides were as hearty as mine.

With quarrels o’ th’ country, and matters of state,
With Ins and with Outs, I ne’er puzzle my pate
There are some that I love, and none that I hate

What though my condition be ever so coarse,
I strive to embrace it for better and worse;
And my heart, I thank God, is as light as my purse.

In short, my condition, whatever it be,
Tis God that appoints it, for aught I can see;
And I’m sure I can never do better than He.


FINIS.


This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.

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