Studious of ease and fond of humble things

The flowers anew returning seasons bring! But beauty faded has no second spring.

There solid billows of enormous size, Alps of green ice, in wild disorder rise.

The stag in limpid currents with surprise Sees crystal branches on his forehead rise.

He the robe of justice wore, Sully'd not, as heretofore, When the magistrate was sought With yearly gifts. Of what avail Are guilty hoards? for life is frail; And we are judg'd where favour is not bought.

To pomp or proud titles she ne'er did aspire, The damsel's of humble descent; The cottager, Peace, is well known for her sire, And shepherds have nam'd her Content.

Those who live on vanity must not unreasonably expect to die of mortification.