3IO CONSOLATIONS OF SOLITUDE
He hath no silver and no gold,
All kinds of wealth, all power doth lack; No house, no barns, no crops, no fold. Not even a cloak, to keep the cold From his old back.
To live in such a lonely state,
Like some wild creature in its hole. And be content with such a fate, This to my mind doth indicate A grovelling soul.
��THE GRAVE.
Divided still 'twixt thought and toil, This man I deem most truly wise. He wastes no words, he spends no oil, And all he wants the fruitful soil Each day supplies.
He fears no loss, he feels no cares.
Hath no false friends, no foes to dread ; No crafty knaves here set their snares ; No creditors, no hungry heirs, Grudge him his bread.
No passions to disturb repose, —
No fear of war, wind, wave, or fir«, — His placid life in calmness flows 'Midst gentle showers and silent snows, Without desire.
THE GAY.
In this rich world to have no choice, With none to help, with none to love, —
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