Summer has spread a cool, green tent Upon the bare poles of this tree; Where 'tis a joy to sit all day, And hear the small birds' melody; To see the sheep stand bolt upright, Nibbling at grass almost their height. And much I marvel now how men Can waste their fleeting days in greed; That one man should desire more gold Than twenty men should truly need; For is not this green tent more sweet Than any chamber of the great? This tent, at which I spend my day, Was made at Nature's cost, not mine; And when night comes, and I must sleep, No matter if my room be fine Or common, for Content and Health Can sleep without the power of Wealth. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TRANSFORMATIONS by THOMAS HARDY I DID THIS FOR THEE! WHAT HAST THOU DONE FOR ME? by FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL LAST SONNET (REVISED VERSION) by JOHN KEATS LAURENCE BLOOMFIELD IN IRELAND: 6. SPRING by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM CAPITAL SQUARE by PATRICK JOHN MCALISTER ANDERSON TWENTY DAYS by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT ON THE FUNERAL OF CHARLES I; AT NIGHT, IN ST. GEORGE'S CHAPEL, WINDSOR by WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES |