THOUGH far from joy, my sorrows are as far, And I both between; Not too low, nor yet too high Above my reach, would I be seen. Happy is he that so is placed, Not to be envied nor to be disdained or disgraced. The higher trees, the more storms they endure; Shrubs be trodden down: But the Mean, the Golden Mean, Doth only all our fortunes crown: Like to a stream that sweetly slideth Through the flowery banks, and still in the midst his course guideth. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BLUEFLAGS by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS GO SLEEP, MA HONEY by EDWARD D. BARKER ECCLESIASTICAL SONNETS: PART 3: 5. WALTON'S BOOK OF LIVE by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH ODES: BOOK 1: ODE 4. AFFECTED INDIFFERENCE by MARK AKENSIDE TO MR. BARBAULD, NOVEMBER 14, 1778 by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD WHAT DICK AN' I DID by WILLIAM BARNES |