MEN'S hearts love gold and jade; Men's mouths covet wine and flesh. Not so the old man of the stream; He drinks from his gourd and asks nothing more. South of the stream he cuts firewood and grass; North of the stream he has built wall and roof. Yearly he sows a single acre of land; In spring he drives two yellow calves. In these things he finds great repose; Beyond these he has no wish or care. By chance I met him walking by the water-side; He took me home and lodged me in his thatched hut. When I parted from him, to seek market and Court, This old man asked my rank and pay. Doubting my tale, he laughed loud and long: "Privy Councillors do not sleep in barns." (@3Arthur Waley@1) | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FOREST MAID by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE CHARGE AT SANTIAGO by WILLIAM HAMILTON HAYNE THE TWELVE-FORTY-FIVE (FOR EDWARD J. WHEELER) by ALFRED JOYCE KILMER THE MOWER AGAINST GARDENS by ANDREW MARVELL LINES WRITTEN ON THE DEATH OF MRS. HEMANS by MARIA ABDY FORMALITY AND THE SOUL: 2. JAMES MACNEIL WHISTLER by KARL W. BIGELOW |