Classic Poem

VI.
Let him that will be free and keep his hart from care,
Retir'd alone, remaine where no discomforts are.
For when the cie doth view his griefe, or haplesse eare his sorrow heares,
Th' impression still in him abides, and ever in one shape appeares.

Forget thy griefes betimes; long sorrow breedes long paine,
For joie, farre fled from men, will not returne againe;
O happie is the soule which heaven ordained to live in endles peace:
His life is a pleasing dreame, and everie houre his joyes encrease.

You heavie sprites, that love in sever'd shades to dwell,
That nurse despaire, and dreame of unrelenting hell,
Come sing this happie song, and learne of me the Arte of true content,
Loade not your guiltie soules with wrong, and heaven then will soone relent.