Content in peace to share
His poor and humble fare,
As in that golden age
We honor still, yet leave its simple ways;
Whoe’er so list, let joy his hours engage:
No gladness e’er has cheer’d my gloomy days,
Nor moment of repose,
However rolled the spheres, whatever planet rose.
When as the shepherd marks the sloping ray
Of the great orb that sinks in ocean’s bed,