ON RETIREMENT - Philip Morin Freneau Poems


Poems » philip morin freneau » on retirement


          A hermit's house beside a stream,
          With forests planted round,
          Whatever it to you may seem
          More real happiness I deem
          Than if I were a monarch crown'd.

          A cottage I could call my own
          Remote from domes of care;
          A little garden walled with stone,
          The wall with ivy overgrown,
          A limpid fountain near,

          Would more substantial joys afford,
          More real bliss impart
          Than all the wealth that misers hoard,
          Than vanquish'd worlds, or worlds restored --
          Mere cankers of the heart!

          Vain, foolish man! how vast thy pride,
          How little can your wants supply! --
          'Tis surely wrong to grasp so wide --
          You act as if you only had
          To vanquish -- not to die!