A PLAIN LIFE
W.H. Davies 1871-1940
No idle gold - since this fine sun, my friend,
Is no mean miser, but doth freely spend.
No precious stones - since these green mornings show,
Without a charge, their pearls where'er I go.
No lifeless books - since birds with their sweet tongues
Will read aloud to me their happier songs.
No painted scenes - since clouds can change their skies
A hundred times a day to please my eyes.
No headstrong wine - since, while I drink, the spring
Into my eager ears will softly sing.
No surplus clothes - since every simple beast
Can teach me to be happy with the least.