Wednesday, July 12, 2017

Sweet Contentment

 Considering the lilies . . .

 I cannot sing Thee hymns of praise
For teeming fields and granaries;
The thankful song that thrills my heart
Is not for one day set apart,
But fills my little cot with cheer
Where sweet content dwells all the year.

I do not crave a wider field
Beyond my walls' protecting shield,
Nor let ambition spur my soul
To distant search of doubtful goal;
No journey mine, o'er land and sea --
For here is all the world to me!

Here in my tiny garden plot
The restless world is well forgot;
My creed is simple, my love is great,
I thank Thee for so dear a fate.
A good man's love, a small child's need -
Ah, this is opulence indeed!

--Edith Vaughan Michaux

This is another poem found in great grandmother's scrapbook.