O BLESSED man! who, homely bred, In lowly cell can pass his days, Feeding on his well-gotten bread; And hath his God's not others' ways. That doth into a prayer wake, And rising, not to bribes or bands, The power that doth him happy make, Hath both his knees, as well as hands. His threshold he doth not forsake, Or for the city's cates, or trim; His plough, his flock, his scythe, and rake, Do physic, clothe, and nourish him. By some sweet stream, clear as his thought, He seats him with his book and line; And though his hand have nothing caught, His mind hath whereupon to dine. He hath a table furnish'd strong, To feast a friend, no flattering snare, And hath a judgment and a tongue That know to welcome and beware. His afternoon spent as the prime Inviting where he mirthful sups; Labour, or seasonable time, Brings him to bed and not his cups. Yet, ere he take him to his rest, For this and for their last repair, He, with his household meek address'd, Offer their sacrifice of prayer. If then a loving wife he meets, Such as a good man should lie by, Bless'd Eden is betwixt these sheets. Thus would I live, thus would I die. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...STEVENSON'S BIRTHDAY by KATHERINE WISE MILLER LOUISA MAY ALCOTT by LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON THE MAIDEN CITY by CHARLOTTE ELIZABETH TONNA EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 6. FAIR AND SOFTLY by PHILIP AYRES PHANTOM OF LIFE by VIOLET MCKAY BALL TO A FRIEND IN THE NAVY, SICK AT HOME by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD MAXIMS FOR THE OLD HOUSE: THE BEST ROOM by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH |