Yes, it has been awhile since I have posted anything on this blog. I don't have anything profound to say, but I do want to share with you a poem that I came across today. I found it in a book that I am going through this year in my morning reading time. The book is, A Diary of Readings by John Baillie.
I don't know about you, but I need to read most poems at last two or three times before I even begin to understand what is being said. This poem is a good one. Read it through, and by the third time you will know what I mean.
A Happy Life by Sir Henry Wotton
How happy is he born and taught
That serveth not another's will:
Whose armour is his honest thought,
And simple truth his utmost skill!
Who passions not his masters are;
Whose soul is still prepared for death,
Untied unto the world by care
Of public fame or private breath.
Who envies none that chance doth raise,
Nor vice; who never understood
How deepest wounds are given by praise;
Nor rules of state, but rules of good.
Who hath his life from rumours freed;
Whose conscience is his strong retreat;
Whose state can neither flatterers feed,
Nor ruin make oppressors great;
Who God doth late and early pray
More of his grace than gifts to lend;
And entertains the harmless day
With a religious book or friend;
This man is freed from servile bands
Of hope to rise or fear to fall:
Lord of himself, though not of lands,
And having nothing, yet has all.