CHARLES COTTON, ESQ. xxi 



And praises God when back he looks. 

 And finds that all was innocent. 



xxvin. 

 This man is happier far than he, 



Whom public business oft betrays. 

 Through labyrinths of policy 



To crooked and forbidden ways. 



XXIX. 



The world is full of beaten roads. 



But yet so slippery withal, 

 That lohere one walks secure, 'tis odds 



A hundred and a hundred fall. 



XXX. 



Untrodden paths are then the best. 



When the frequented are unsure ; 

 And he comes soonest to his rest 



Whose journey has been most secure. 



XXXI. 



It is content alone that makes 



Our pilgrimage a pleasure here ; 

 And who buys sorrow cheapest takes 

 An ill commodity too dear. 



XXXII. 



But he has fortune's worst withstood. 



And happiness can never miss ; 

 Can covet nought but where he stood. 



And thinks him happy where he is. 



I 



