Oh, Sweet Content!

Oh, sweet content, that turns the labourer’s sweat.

To tears of joy, and shines the roughest face;

How often have I sought you high and low,

And found you still in some lone quiet place.

Here, in my room, when full of happy dreams,

With no life heard beyond that merry sound

Of moths that on my lighted ceiling kiss

Their shadows as they dance and dance around.

Or in a garden, on a summer’s night

When I have seen the dark and solemn air

Blink with the blind bat’s wings, and heaven’s bright face

Twitch with the stars that shine in thousands there.