72 THE GARDEN 



Happy art thou, whom God does bless 

 With the full choice of thine own happiness ; 



And happier yet, because thou 'rt blest 



With prudence, how to choose the best ; 

 In books and gardens thou hast plac'd aright 



(Things, which thou well dost understand ; 

 And both dost make with thy laborious hand) 



Thy noble, innocent delight : 

 And in thy virtuous wife, where thou again dost meet 



Both pleasures more refin'd and sweet ; 



The fairest garden in her looks, 



And in her mind the wisest books. 

 Oh, who would change these soft, yet solid joys, 



For empty shows, and senseless noise ! 



And all which rank ambition breeds, 

 Which seem such beauteous flowers, and are such 

 poisonous weeds ? 



When God did man to His own likeness make, 

 As much as clay, though of the purest kind, 

 By the great potter's art refin'd, 

 Could the divine impression take, 



