Classic Poem

XXV

Who free from Debt, and clear from Crimes,
 Honours those Laws that others fear,
Who ill of Princes in worst Times
 Will neither speak himself, nor hear.

XXVI

Who from the busie World retires,
 To be more useful to it still,
And to no greater good aspires,
 But only the eschewing ill.

XXVII

Who, with his Angle, and his Books,
 Can think the longest day well spent,
And praises God when back he looks,
 And finds that all was innocent.

XXVIII

This man is happier far than he
 Whom publick Business oft betrays,
Through Labyrinths of policy,
 To crooked and forbidden ways.

XXIX

The World is full of beaten Roads,
 But yet so slippery withall,
That where one walks secure, 'tis odds
 A hundred and a hundred fall.

XXX

Untrodden Paths are then the best,
 Where the frequented are unsure,
And he comes soonest to his rest,
 Whose Journey has been most secure.

XXXI

It is Content alone that makes
 Our Pilgrimage a Pleasure here,
And who buyes Sorrow cheapest, takes
 An ill Commodity too dear.

XXXII

But he has Fortunes worst withstood,
 And Happiness can never miss,
Can covet nought, but where he stood,
 And thinks him happy where he is.