For selfishness, and envy, and revenge, 355
Ill neighbourhood—pity that this should be—
Flattery and double-dealing, strife and wrong.
Yet is it something gained, it is in truth
A mighty gain, that Labour here preserves
His rosy face, a servant only here 360
Of the fire-side, or of the open field,
A freeman, therefore, sound and unimpaired;
That extreme penury is here unknown,
And cold and hunger’s abject wretchedness,