THE SIMPLE LIFE THE LAKE ISLE OF INNISFREE I WILL arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made; Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee, And live alone in the bee-loud glade. And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow, Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings; There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow, And evening full of the linnet's wings. I will arise and go now, for always, night and day, I hear lake-water lapping with low sounds by the shore; While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray, I hear it in the deep heart's core. William Butler Yeats [1865 T A WISH MINE be a cot beside the hill; A bee-hive's hum shall soothe my ear; The swallow, oft, beneath my thatch Around my ivied porch shall spring "Thrice Happy He" The village-church among the trees, And point with taper spire to Heaven. 1589 Samuel Rogers [1763-1855] ODE ON SOLITUDE HAPPY the man, whose wish and care Content to breathe his native air In his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire; Whose trees in summer yield him shade, In winter, fire. Blest, who can unconcernedly find Quiet by day; Sound sleep by night; study and ease And innocence, which most does please, With meditation. Thus let me live, unseen, unknown; Thus unlamented let me die; Steal from the world, and not a stone Tell where I lie. Alexander Pope [1688-1744] "THRICE HAPPY HE" THRICE happy he, who by some shady grove, Though solitary, who is not alone, But doth converse with that eternal love. O how more sweet is birds' harmonious moan, William Drummond [1585-1649] UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE” UNDER the greenwood tree, Who loves to lie with me, And turn his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither: Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather. Who doth ambition shun, And loves to live i' the sun, Seeking the food he eats, And pleased with what he gets, Come hither, come hither, come hither: Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather. William Shakespeare [1564-1616] CORIDON'S SONG In "The Complete Angler " OH, the sweet contentment Coridon's Song That quiet contemplation Then care away, And wend along with me. For courts are full of flattery, The city full of wantonness, But oh, the honest countryman High trolollie lee, His pride is in his tillage, His horses and his cart: Our clothing is good sheepskins, Gray russet for our wives, High trolollie lollie loe, High trolollie lee, 'Tis warmth and not gay clothing That doth prolong our lives: The plowman, though he labor hard, Yet on the holiday, High trolollie lollie loe, High trollolie lee, No emperor so merrily To recompense our tillage High trolollie lee, And for our sweet refreshments The earth affords us bowers: 1591 The cuckoo and the nightingale High trolollie lollie loe, High trolollie lee, And with their pleasant roundelays Bid welcome to the spring: This is not half the happiness High trolollie lollie loe, High trolollie lee, Though others think they have as much Yet he that says so lies: Then come away, turn Countryman with me. John Chalkhill (fl. 1648] THE OLD SQUIRE I LIKE the hunting of the hare And the crowing of the cocks. I like the calm of the early fields, I like the pheasants and feeding things I like the flap of the wood-pigeon's wings I like the blackbird's shriek, and his rush I like these things, and I like to ride, When all the world is in bed, To the top of the hill where the sky grows wide, And where the sun grows red. |