HERE, Here I live with what my board <br />Can with the smallest cost afford; <br />Though ne'er so mean the viands be, <br />They well content my Prue and me: <br />Or pea or bean, or wort or beet, <br />Whatever comes, Content makes sweet. <br />Here we rejoice, because no rent <br />We pay for our poor tenement; <br />Wherein we rest, and never fear <br />The landlord or the usurer. <br />The quarter-day does ne'er affright <br />Our peaceful slumbers in the night: <br />We eat our own, and batten more, <br />Because we feed on no man's score; <br />But pity those whose flanks grow great, <br />Swell'd with the lard of other's meat. <br />We bless our fortunes, when we see <br />Our own beloved privacy; <br />And like our living, where we're known <br />To very few, or else to none.<br /><br />Robert Herrick<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/his-content-in-the-country/
