One Star

Is better far

Than many Precious Stones:

One Sun, which is by its own lustre seen,

Is worth ten thousand Golden Thrones:

A juicy Herb, or Spire of Grass,

In useful Virtu, native Green,

An Em'rald doth surpass;

Hath in't more Valu, tho less seen.

No Wars,

Nor mortal Jars,

Nor bloody Feuds, nor Coin,

Nor Griefs which those occasion, saw I then;

Nor wicked Thievs which this purloin:

I had no Thoughts that were impure;

Esteeming both Women and Men

God's Work, I was secure,

And reckon'd Peace my choicest Gem.

As Eve

I did believ

My self in Eden set,

Affecting neither Gold, nor Ermin'd Crowns,

Nor ought els that I need forget;

No Mud did foul my limpid Streams,

No Mist eclypst my Sun with frowns;

Set off with hev'nly Beams,

My Joys were Meadows, Fields, and Towns.

Those things

Which Cherubins

Did not at first behold

Among God's Works, which Adam did not see;

As Robes, and Stones enchas'd in Gold,

Rich Cabinets, and such like fine

Inventions; could not ravish me:

I thought not Bowls of Wine

Needful for my Felicity.

All Bliss

Consists in this,

To do as Adam did;

And not to know those superficial Joys

Which were from him in Eden hid:

Those little new-invented Things,

Fine Lace and Silks, such Childish Toys,

As Ribbans are and Rings,

Or worldly Pelf that Us destroys.

For God,

Both Great and Good,

The Seeds of Melancholy

Creäted not: but only foolish Men,

Grown mad with customary Folly

Which doth increase their Wants, so dote

As when they elder grow they then

Such Baubles chiefly note;

More Fools at Twenty Years than Ten.

But I,

I know not why,

Did learn among them too

At length; and when I once with blemisht Eys

Began their Pence and Toys to view,

Drown'd in their Customs, I became

A Stranger to the Shining Skies,

Lost as a dying Flame;

And Hobby-horses brought to prize.