Classic Poem

I reckoned up my wealth last night,
And found, to my surprise,
That I'm a millionaire all right,
Though maybe in disguise.
To look at me, I must confess,
No person sane would ever guess
I ranked among the wights that hold
A wondrous store of gold.

The list of my securities?
Well, first of all put down
A taste for the simplicities—
Possession rare in town.
I get along on simple things,
And care naught for the pomp of Kings,
And in the quietest of ways
Prefer to pass my days.

Next I've abundant appetite;
Digestion strong and good,
And three times daily take delight
In sitting at my food—
The which a billionaire I know
Would pay a million down or so
If he could have it for himself
Instead of all his pelf.

And finally one item small
With sparkling eyes of brown
Who shares with me what may befall
If Fortune smile or frown;
Who bids me never to repine
Whatever pain or care be mine,
And daily makes me Master of
A blesséd world of Love!