Page:Romance of the Rose (Ellis), volume 1.pdf/212

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Hath seized their hearts; and fierce desire

To have, which nought can stay or tire,

Corrupts their every thought; they want

The more, the more they get, and pant

For increase still, though when ’tis got

Small joy it gives their hearts, I wot.

But happy lives the man who ne’er

Suffers the thought of carking care

To rack his heart, while day by day

With hardy hand he holds at bay

The wolf of hunger, and provides

Whatso he needs, yet never chides

The stroke of Fortune. Well content

He rests with what kind Heaven hath sent,

So long as fails he not to gain

Raiment and food.

If racked with pain

And sickness lieth he abed,

And loatheth in his wearihead

His meat, he wisely looks around

To seek what issue may be found

Therefrom, and Nature saith that good

And prudent ’tis that he all food

Foregoes the while.

If so it fall

He passeth to the hospital,

There shall his sorrows comfort find.

But oft it haps the poor man’s mind

Cares little for the morrow’s need,

And all the woes hard want doth breed.

But if he thinks thereon, declares

There’s time enough for that, nor spares