Classic Poem

Metrum 4

Who wisely would for his retreat
Build a secure and lasting seat,
Where stov'd in silence he may sleep
Beneath the Wind , above the Deep ;
Let him th' high hils leave on one hand,
And on the other the false sand;
The first to winds lyes plain and even
From all the blustring points of heaven;
The other hollow and unsure,
No weight of building will endure.
Avoyding then the envied state
Of buildings bravely situate,
Remember thou thy selfe to lock
Within some low neglected Rock;
There when fierce heaven in thunder Chides,
And winds and waves rage on all sides,
Thou happy in the quiet fense
Of thy poor Cell with small Expence
Shall lead a life serene and faire,
And scorn the anger of the aire.