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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=397173" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Contented Man's Morice</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">False world, thy malice I espie<br>With what thou hast designed;<br>And therein with thee to comply,<br>Who likewise are combined:<br>But, do thy worst, I thee defie,<br>Thy mischiefs are confined.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From me, thou my estate hast torn, <br>By cheatings me beguiled: <br>Me thou hast also made thy scorn; <br>With troubles me turmoiled:<br>But to an heritage I'm born,<br>That never can be spoiled.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So wise I am not, to be mad, <br>Though great are my oppressions;<br>Nor so much fool as to be sad,<br>Though robb'd of my possessions:<br>For, cures for all sores may be had, <br>And grace for all transgressions.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">These words in youth my motto were,<br>And mine in age I'll make them, -<br>I neither have, nor want, nor care; <br>When also first I spake them,<br>I thought things would be as they are,<br>And meekly therefore take them.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The riches I possess this day<br>Are no such goods of fortune<br>As kings can give or take away,<br>Or tyrants make uncertain:<br>For hid within myself are they<br>Behinde an unseen curtain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of my degree, but few or none<br>Were dayly so frequented;<br>But now I'm left of every one, <br>And therewith well contented:<br>For, when I am with God alone,<br>Much folly is prevented.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then, why should I give way to grief?<br>Come, strike up pipe and tabor<br>He that affecteth God in chief,<br>And as himself his neighbour,<br>May still enjoy a happy life,<br>Although he lives by labor.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Not me alone have they made poor, <br>By whom I have been cheated;<br>But very many thousands more<br>Are of their hopes defeated;<br>Who little dreamed heretofore<br>Of being so ill treated.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then, if my courage should be less<br>Than theirs who never prized<br>The resolutions I profess<br>(And almost idolized), <br>I well deserv'd in my distress<br>To be of all despised.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Our sad complaints, our sighs and tears,<br>Make meat nor clothing cheaper:<br>Vain are our earthly hopes and fears,<br>This life is but a vapor;<br>And therefore, in despight of cares,<br>I'll sing, and dance, and caper.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though food nor raiment left me were,<br>I would of wants be dreadless;<br>For when I quickly should be there<br>Where bread and cloth are needless;<br>And in those blessings have my share,<br>Whereof most men are heedless.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I then should that attain unto<br>For which I now endeavour;<br>From my false lovers thither go,<br>Where friendship faileth never:<br>And, through a few short pangs of woe,<br>To joys that last for ever.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For service done, and love exprest,<br>(Though very few regard it)<br>My country owes me bread, at least;<br>But if I be debarr'd it,<br>Good conscience is a dayly feast<br>And sorrow never marr'd it.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My grand oppressors had a thought,<br>When riches they bereaved,<br>That then, my ruine had been wrought;<br>But, they are quite deceived: <br>For them the devil much mis-taught<br>When that weak snare they weaved.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">If in those courses I had gone<br>Wherein they are employed,<br>Till such achievements had been won<br>As are by them enjoyed,<br>They might have wager'd ten to one<br>I should have been destroyed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But proofs have now confirmed me<br>How much our vice offendeth,<br>And what small helps our virtues be<br>To that which God intendeth,<br>Till he himself shall make us free,<br>And our defects amendeth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Not one is from corruption clear; <br>Men are depraved wholly,<br>Mere cruelties their mercies are<br>Their wisdom is but folly;<br>And, when most righteous they appear,<br>Then are they most unholy.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There is no trust in temp'ral things,<br>For they are all unsteady: <br>That no assurance from them springs,<br>Too well I find already;<br>And that ev'n parliaments and kings<br>Are frail, or false, or giddy.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">All stands upon a tott'ring wheel,<br>Which never fixt abideth;<br>Both commonweals and kingdoms reel:<br>He that in them confideth,<br>(Or trusts their faith) shall mischiefs feel,<br>With which soe'er he sideth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This wit I long ago was taught,<br>But then I would not heed it: <br>Experience must by fools be bought,<br>Else they'll not think they need it.<br>By this means was my ruin wrought;<br>Yet they are knaves who did it.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When to the ground deprest I was,<br>Our mushrooms and our bubbles,<br>Whom neither truth, nor wit, nor grace,<br>But wealth and pride ennobles<br>As cruel were as they are base,<br>And jeer'd me in my troubles.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And when their hate these had made known,<br>New mischiefs it begat me:<br>For ev'ry rascal durty clown<br>Presumed to amate me;<br>And all the curs about the town<br>Grinn'd, snarl'd, and barked at me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Since, therefore, 'tis not in my power,<br>(Though oft I fore-discern them)<br>To shun the world's despights one hour,<br>Thus into mirth I'll turn them;<br>And neither grieve, nor pout, nor lowre,<br>But laugh, and sing, and scorn them.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This fit, at sev'nty years and two,<br>And thus to spend my hours,<br>The world's contempt inclines me to,<br>Whilst she my state devours;<br>If this be all that she can do,<br>A fig for all her powers.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet I and shee, my well agree,<br>Though we have much contented;<br>Upon as equal terms are we<br>As most who have offended:<br>For, I sleight her, and she sleights me,<br>And there's my quarel ended.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This only doth my mirth allay,<br>I am to some engaged,<br>Who sigh and weep, and suffer may,<br>Whilst thus I sing incaged:<br>But I've a God, and so have they<br>By whom that care's asswaged.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And he that gives us in these days<br>New lords, may give us new laws;<br>So that our present puppet-plays,<br>Our whimsies, brauls, and gew-gaws,<br>May turned be to songs of praise,<br>And holy hallelujahs.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=George+Wither">George Wither</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=397173" data-title="The Contented Man's Morice de George Wither" data-description="False world, thy malice I espie
With what thou hast designed;
And therein with thee to comply,
Who likewise are combined:
But, do thy worst, I thee defie,
Thy mischiefs are confined.

From me, thou my estate hast torn, 
By cheatings me beguiled: 
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