I dwell in groves that gilt are with the sun; Sit on the banks by which clear waters run; In summers hot down in a shade I lie; My music is the buzzing of a fly; I walk in meadows, where grows fresh green grass; In fields where corn is high, I often pass; Walk up the hills, where round I prospects see, Some brushy woods, and some all champaigns be; Returning back, I in fresh pastures go, To hear how sheep do bleat, and cows do low; In winter cold, when nipping frosts come on, Then I do live in a small house alone; Although 'tis plain, yet cleanly 'tis within, Like to a soul that's pure and clear from sin; And there I dwell in quiet and still peace, Not fill'd with cares how riches do increase; I wish nor seek for vain and fruitless pleasures; No riches are, but what the mind intreasures. Thus am I solitary, live alone, Yet better lov'd the more that I am known; And though my face ill-favour'd at first sight, After acquaintance, it will give delight. Refuse me not, for I shall constant be; Maintain your credit and your dignity. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SECOND OPINION by STEPHEN CUSHMAN CHRISTMAS IN INDIA by RUDYARD KIPLING BLESSING THE LIGHTS by ALTER ABELSON ARIZONA SUMMER by ELEANOR BALDWIN LINES TO A LADY by DJUNA BARNES |