Classic Poem

I AM content, I do not care,
— Wag as it will the world for me!
When fuss and fret was all my fare
— It got no ground that I could see;
So when away my caring went
I counted cost and was content.

With more of thanks and less of thought
— I strive to make my matters meet;
To seek what ancient sages sought,
— Physic and food in sour and sweet;
To take what passes in good part
And keep the hiccups from the heart.

With good and gently-humored hearts
— I choose to chat where'er I come,
Whate'er the subject be that starts;
— But if I get among the glum
I hold my tongue to tell the troth,
And keep my breath to cool my broth.

For chance or change of peace or pain,
— For Fortune's favor or her frown,
For lack or glut, for loss or gain,
— I never dodge nor up nor down,
But swing what way the ship shall swim,
Or tack about with equal trim.

I suit not where I shall not speed,
— Nor trace the turn of every tide.
If simple sense will not succeed
— I made no bustling, but abide.
For shining wealth or scaring woe
I force no friend, I fear no foe.

Of ups and downs, of ins and outs,
— Of they're-i'-th'-wrong and we're-i'-th'-right,
I shun the rancors and the routs;
— And, wishing well to every wight,
Whatever turn the matter takes,
I deem it all but ducks and drakes.

With whom I feast I do not fawn,
— Nor if the folks should flout me, faint.
If wonted welcome be withdrawn
— I cook no kind of a complaint.
With none disposed to disagree,
I like them best who best like me.

Not that I rate myself the rule
— How all my betters should behave;
But fame shall find me no man's fool,
— Nor to a set of men a slave;
I love a friendship free and frank,
But hate to hang upon a hank.

Fond of a true and trusty tie,
— I never loose where'er I link,
Though if a business budges by
— I talk thereon just as I think;
My word, my work, my heart, my hand,
Still on a side together stand.

If names or notions make a noise,
— Whatever hap the question hath
The point impartially I poise,
— And read and write, but without wrath
For, should I burn or break my brains,
Pray, who will pay me for my pains?

I love my neighbor as myself —
— Myself like him too, by his leave!
Nor to his pleasure, power or pelf
— Came I to crouch, as I conceive!
Dame Nature doubtless has designed
A man the monarch of his mind.

Now taste and try this temper, sirs,
— Mood it and brood it in your breast;
Or, if ye ween for worldly stirs
— That man does right to mar his rest,
Let me be deft and debonair,
I am content, I do not care!