Indeed this is the sweet life! my hand <br />Is under no proud man's command; <br />There is no voice to break my rest <br />Before a bird has left its nest; <br />There is no man to change my mood, <br />When I go nutting in the wood; <br />No man to pluck my sleeve and say -- <br />I want thy labour for this day; <br />No man to keep me out of sight, <br />When that dear Sun is shining bright. <br />None but my friends shall have command <br />Upon my time, my heart and hand; <br />I'll rise from sleep to help a friend, <br />But let no stranger orders send, <br />Or hear my curses fast and thick, <br />Which in his purse-proud throat would stick <br />Like burrs. If I cannot be free <br />To do such work as pleases me, <br />Near woodland pools and under trees, <br />You'll get no work at all, for I <br />Would rather live this life and die <br />A beggar or a thief, than be <br />A working slave with no days free.<br /><br />William Henry Davies<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/no-master/
