by: Thomas Heywood
- E that have
known no greater state
- Than this we live in, praise our fate;
- For courtly silks in cares are spent
- When country's russet breeds content.
- The power of sceptres we admire,
- But sheep-hooks for our use desire.
- Simple and low is our condition,
- For here with us is no ambition.
- We with the sun our flocks unfold,
- Whose rising makes their fleeces gold:
- Our music from the birds we borrow,
- They bidding us, we them, good morrow.
- Our habits are but coarse and plain,
- Yet they defend from wind and rain,
- As warm too in an equal eye
- As those be, stained in scarlet dye:
- Those that have plenty wear, we see,
- But one at once, and so do we.
- The shepherd with his home-spun lass
- As many merry hours doth pass
- As courtiers with their costly girls,
- Though richly decked in gold and pearls.
POEMS BY THOMAS HEYWOOD
'Rustic Happiness' was originally
published in Pleasant Dialogues (1637).