To be a husbandman, is but a retreat from the city; to be a philosopher, from the world; or rather, a retreat from the world, as it is man's, into the world, as it is God's.
All the world's bravery that delights our eyes is but thy several liveries.
Vain, weak-built isthmus, which dost proudly rise Up between two eternities!
May I a small house and large garden have; And a few friends, And many books, both true.
Come, my best Friends! my Books! and lead me on.
Enjoy the present hour, Be thankful for the past, And neither fear nor wish Th' approaches of the last.