OF CONTENTMENT. GOLLINESS with Contentment,-these be the pillars of felicity, Jachin, wherewithal it is established, and Boaz, in the which is And strength; (13) upon their capitals is lily-work, the lotus fruit and flower, Those fair and fragrant types of holiness, innocence, and beauty; Great gain pertaineth to the pillars, nets and chains of wreathen gold, And they stand up straight in the temple porch, the house where Glory dwelleth. THE body craveth meats, and the spirit is athirst for peacefulness; For covetousness never had enough, but moaneth at its wants for ever, the poor. That hungry chasm in their market-place gapeth still unsatisfied, Yea, fling in all the wealth of Rome,-it asketh higher victims; So, when the miser's gold cannot fill the measure of his lust, Curtius must leap into the pit, and avarice shall close upon his life. (11) BEHOLD Independence in his rags, all too easily contented, Careful for nothing, thankful for much, and uncomplaining in his poverty: Such an one have I somewhile seen earn his crust with gladness; He is a gatherer of simples, culling wild herbs upon the hills: And now, as he sitteth on the beach, with his motherless child beside him, To rest them in the cheerful sun, and sort their mints and horehound,-- For there is more joy of life with that poor picker of the ditches, content. I have seen many rich, burdened with the fear of poverty, I have seen many poor buoyed with all the carelessness of wealth; ment. None is poor but the mean in mind, the timorous, the weak, and unbe lieving; None is wealthy but the affluent in soul, who is satisfied and floweth over. The poor-rich is attenuate for fears, the rich-poor is fattened upon hopes; Cheerfulness is one man's welcome, and the other warneth from him by his gloom. Many poor have the pleasures of the rich, even in their own posses sions; And many rich miss the poor man's comforts, and yet feel all his cares. Liberty is affluence, and the Helots of anxiety never can be counted wealthy; But he that is disenthralled from fear, goeth for the time a king; He is royal, great, and opulent, living free of fortune, And looking on the world as owner of its good, the Maker's child and heir: Whereas the covetous is slavish, a very Midas in his avarice, Full of dismal dreams, and starved amongst his treasures: The ceaseless spur of discontent goaded him with instant apprehension, And his thirst for gold could never be quenched, for he drank with the throat of Crassus. (15) VANITY and dreary disappointment, care, and weariness, and envy; For ambition is a burning mountain, thrown up amid the turbid sea, And the statesman climbing there, forgetful of his patriot intentions, A black and bitter frown is stamped upon the forehead of Ambition, THERE was in Tyre a merchant, the favourite child of fortune, And on a day, a day of dread, in the heat of inordinate ambition, sions, The chance hit him, he had speculated ill,—and men began to whisper;-- And so, He was a stricken stag, and went to hide away in solitude, And there in humility, he thought,―he resolved, and promptly acted: From the wreck of all his splendours, from the dregs of the goblet of afflu ence, He saved with management a morsel and a drop, for his daily cup and platter: And lo, that little was enough, and in enough was competence: His cares were gone, he slept by night, and lived at peace by day: For he found in his abasement, what he vainly had sought in high estate, ONCE more; a certain priest, happy in his high vocation, With faith, and hope, and charity, well served his village altar;' As men count riches, he was poor; but great were his treasures in heaven, And great his joys on earth, for God's sake doing good: He had few cares and many consolations, one of the welcome every where; The labourer accounted him his friend, and magnates did him honour at their table: With a large heart and little means he still made many grateful, And felt as the centre of a circle, of comfort, calmness, and content. The neighbouring town had a pulpit to be filled; hotly did he canvass and won it: Now was he popular and courted, and listened to the spell of admiration, Man for God, gold for good, this was his miserable bargain, Then, for God was gracious to his soul, his better thoughts returned, And better aims with better thoughts, his holy walk of old. Sickened of style, and ostentation, and the dissipative fashions of society, He deserted from the ranks of Mammon, and renewed his allegiance to God: For he found that the praises of men, and all that gold can give, Are not worthy to be named against godliness and calm contentment. |