Haunt me not, Envy! why wouldst thou follow me?
Wealth's possessions I lust not after,
Nor tread with the crowd who chase so eagerly
Vanities which my thoughts despise.
Office I covet not—all the cravings
Of thirsting ambition delude me never;
They smile on others; but golden treasure
And noisy titles I idle deem.
Wealth amasses in countless storehouses,
Harvests—and power, its piles upgathering,
Holds the keys which long-lin'd ancestry
Sends like sceptres from son to son.
Lo! it pours from crystal glasses
The juice Tokayan, which earth provided
For favorites, in her capricious restlessness.
Lo! they smile while they quaff the cup;
I, in narrow chamber, quiet
My hunger with poor supply; and quenching
My thirst with water-drops, ask the Deity
None but humble gifts like these:
Wife that feels, and breeze refreshing me;
Thoughts unanxious, and youthful spirits
When age comes on; and friends of faithfulness
Ever renewing the verdant song.