Philip Morin Freneau



                   On Retirement


                   A hermit's house beside a stream,
                   With forests planted round,
                   Whatever it to you may seem
                   More real happiness I deem
                   Than if I were a monarch crown'd.

                   A cottage I could call my own
                   Remote from domes of care;
                   A little garden walled with stone,
                   The wall with ivy overgrown,
                   A limpid fountain near,

                   Would more substantial joys afford,
                   More real bliss impart
                   Than all the wealth that misers hoard,
                   Than vanquish'd worlds, or worlds restored —
                   Mere cankers of the heart!

                   Vain, foolish man! how vast thy pride,
                   How little can your wants supply! —
                   'Tis surely wrong to grasp so wide —
                   You act as if you only had
                   To vanquish — not to die!

                   1786


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