Happy insect, what can be <br />In happiness compared to thee? <br />Fed with nourishment divine, <br />The dewy morning's gentle wine! <br />Nature waits upon thee still, <br />And thy verdant cup does fill; <br />'Tis filled wherever thou dost tread, <br />Nature's self's thy Ganymede. <br />Thou dost drink, and dance, and sing, <br />Happier than the happiest king! <br />All the fields which thou dost see, <br />All the plants belong to thee; <br />All the summer hours produce, <br />Fertile made with early juice. <br />Man for thee does sow and plow, <br />Farmer he, and landlord thou! <br />Thou dost innocently enjoy; <br />Nor does thy luxury destroy. <br />The shepherd gladly heareth thee, <br />More harmonious than he. <br />Thee country hinds with gladness hear, <br />Prophet of the ripened year! <br />Thee Phoebus loves, and does inspire <br />Phoebus is himself thy sire. <br />To thee, of all things upon earth, <br />Life is no longer than thy mirth. <br />Happy insect! happy thou, <br />Dost neither age nor winter know; <br />But when thou'st drunk, and danced, and sung <br />Thy fill, the flowery leaves among, <br />(Voluptuous and wise withal, <br />Epicurean animal!) <br />Sated with thy summer feast, <br />Thou retir'st to endless rest.<br /><br />Abraham Cowley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-grasshopper-5/
