That great, but secret, happiness to prize, That’s laid up in a little, for the wise: That is the best and easiest estate Which to a man sits close, but not too strait. ’Tis like a shoe: it pinches, and it burns, Too narrow; and too large it overturns. My dearest friend, stop thy desires at last, And cheerfully enjoy the wealth thou hast. And, if me still seeking for more you see, Chide and reproach, despise and laugh at me. Money was made, not to command our will, But all our lawful pleasures to fulfil. Shame and woe to us, if we our wealth obey; The horse doth with the horseman run away. THE COUNTRY LIFE. _Libr._ 4, _Plantarum_. BLEST be the man (and blest he is) whom e’er (Placed far out of the roads of hope or fear) A little field and little garden feeds; The field gives all that frugal nature needs, The wealthy garden liberally bestows All she can ask, when she luxurious grows. The specious inconveniences, that wait Upon a life of business and of state, He sees (nor does the sight disturb his rest) By fools desired, by wicked men possessed. Thus, thus (and this deserved great Virgil’s praise) The old Corycian yeoman passed his days, Thus his wise life Abdolonymus spent: The ambassadors which the great emperor sent To offer him a crown, with wonder found The reverend gardener hoeing of his ground; Unwillingly and slow, and discontent, From his loved cottage to a throne he went. And oft he stopped in his triumphant way, And oft looked back, and oft was heard to say, Not without sighs, “Alas! I there forsake A happier kingdom than I go to take.” Thus Aglaüs (a man unknown to men, But the gods knew, and therefore loved him then) Thus lived obscurely then without a name, Aglaüs, now consigned to eternal fame. For Gyges, the rich king, wicked and great, Presumed at wise Apollo’s Delphic seat, Presumed to ask, “O thou, the whole world’s eye, Seest thou a man that happier is than I?” The god, who scorned to flatter man, replied, “Aglaüs happier is.” But Gyges cried, In a proud rage, “Who can that Aglaüs be? We have heard as yet of no such king as he.” And true it was, through the whole earth around No king of such a name was to be found. “Is some old hero of that name alive, Who his high race does from the gods derive? Is it some mighty general that has done Wonders in fight, and god-like honours won? Is it some man of endless wealth?” said he; “None, none of these: who can this Aglaüs be?” After long search, and vain inquiries passed, In an obscure Arcadian vale at last (The Arcadian life has always shady been) Near Sopho’s town (which he but once had seen) This Aglaüs, who monarchs’ envy drew, Whose happiness the gods stood witness to, This mighty Aglaüs was labouring found, With his own hands, in his own little ground.