Wag as it will the world for me;
When Fuss and Fret was all my fare
It got no ground, as I could see.
So when away my caring went
I counted cost and was content.
With more of thanks and less of thought
I strive to make my matters meet;
To seek, what ancient sages sought,
Physic and food in sour and sweet.
To take what passes in good part,