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.