The blessed peace about him calms his will
And hidden thoughts, expanding into flower,
Amaze him with their beauty, and the sour
Sharp voice of Care, that sounds far off and shrill,
Moves him to gentle mirth that men can be
So strangely foolish as to heed her call,
Regardless of their true felicity....
Avoid the place, ye bores. Aroint ye all!
Afflict not one to this dear haven fled,
My private earthly paradise—my BED.