I'd have a clear, and competent estate, That I might live genteely, but not great: As much as I could moderately spend, A little more, sometimes t' oblige a friend. Nor should the sons of poverty repine Too much at fortune, they should taste of mine; And all that objects of true pity were Should be reliev'd with what my wants could spare: For that, our Maker has too largely giv'n, Should be return'd, in gratitude to Heav'n, A frugal plenty mould my table spread; With healthy, not luxurious, dimes fed: Enough to satisfy, and something more To feed the stranger, and the neighb'ring poor: Strong meat indulges vice, and pamp'ring food Creates diseases, and inflames the blood. But what's sufficient to make nature strong, And the bright lamp of life continue long, I'd freely take, and, as I did possess, The bounteous author of my plenty bless. I'd have a little vault, but always stor'd With the best wines each vintage could afford. Wine whets the wit, improves its native force, And gives a pleasant flavour to discourse: By making all our spirits debonair, Throws off the lees, the sediment of care, But as the greatest blessing Heav'n lends, May be debauch'd and serve ignoble ends: So, but too oft, the Grape's refreshing juice Does many mischievous effects produce. My house should no such rude disorders know, As from high drinking consequently flow: Nor would I use what was so kindly giv'n To the dishonour of indulgent Heav'n. If any neighbour came, he should be free, Us'd with respect, and not uneasy be, In my retreat, or to himself or me. What freedom, prudence, and right reason give, All men may with impunity receive: But the least swerving from their rule's too much; For what's forbidden us, 'tis death to touch. That life might be more comfortable yet, And all my joys resin'd, sincere, and great; I'd chuse two friends, whose company would be A great advance to my felicity. Well born, of humour suited to my own; Discreet, and men, as well as books, have known. Brave, gen'rous, witty, and exactly free From loose behaviour, or formality. Airy, and prudent, merry, but not light; Quick in discerning, and in judging right. Secret they should be, faithful to their trust; In reas'ning cool, strong, temperate, and just. Obliging, open, without huffing, brave, Brisk in gay talking, and in sober, grave. Close in dispute, but not tenacious; try'd By solid reason, and let that decide. Not prone to lust, revenge, or envious hate; Nor busy medlers with intrigues of state. Strangers to slander, and sworn foes to spight: Not quarrelsome, but stout enough to fight. Loyal, and pious, friends to Cæsar, true As dying martyrs, to their Maker too. In their society I could not miss A permanent, sincere, substantial bliss.