Part 3 — THE WISH
Reading edition
Well then, I now do plainly see This busy world and I shall ne'er agree; The very honey of all earthly joy Does, of all meats, the soonest cloy; And they, methinks, deserve my pity Who for it can endure the stings, The crowd, and buzz, and murmurings Of this great hive, the city!
Ah, yet, ere I descend to the grave, May I a small house and large garden have; And a few friends, and many books, both true, Both wise, and both delightful too! And since Love ne'er will from me flee,— A mistress moderately fair, And good as guardian-angels are, Only beloved, and loving me!
O fountains! when in you shall I Myself eased of unpeaceful thoughts espy? O fields! O woods! when, when shall I be made The happy tenant of your shade? Here's the spring-head of pleasure's flood! Here's wealthy Nature's treasury, Where all the riches lie, that she Has coined and stamped for good.
Pride and ambition here Only in far-fetched metaphors appear; Here naught but winds can hurtful murmurs scatter, And naught but echo flatter. The gods, when they descended, hither From heaven did always choose their way; And therefore we may boldly say That 'tis the way too thither.
How happy here should I And one dear She live, and embracing die! She who is all the world, and can exclude In deserts solitude. I should have then this only fear: Lest men, when they my pleasures see, Should hither throng to live like me, And so make a city here.
Abraham Cowley [1618-1667]