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 my 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.