A Selection from the Lyrical Poems of Robert Herrick

50. HIS CONTENT IN THE COUNTRY

     HERE, Here I live with what my board
     Can with the smallest cost afford;
     Though ne'er so mean the viands be,
     They well content my Prue and me:
     Or pea or bean, or wort or beet,
     Whatever comes, Content makes sweet.
     Here we rejoice, because no rent
     We pay for our poor tenement;
     Wherein we rest, and never fear
     The landlord or the usurer.
     The quarter-day does ne'er affright
     Our peaceful slumbers in the night:
     We eat our own, and batten more,
     Because we feed on no man's score;
     But pity those whose flanks grow great,
     Swell'd with the lard of other's meat.
     We bless our fortunes, when we see
     Our own beloved privacy;
     And like our living, where we're known
     To very few, or else to none.