Many, I see, have riches plenty—
Fine coaches, livery, servants twenty;—
Yet envy never pains me;
My appetite’s as good as theirs,
I sleep as sound, as free from fears;
I’ve only what maintains me!
And while the precious joys I prove
Of Tom’s true friendship—and the love
Of bonny black-ey’d Jenny,—
Ye gods! my wishes are confin’d