How blessed is he, who leads a country life, Unvex'd with anxious cares, and void of strife! Who studying peace, and shunning civil rage, Enjoy'd his youth, and now enjoys his age: All who deserve his love, he makes his own; And, to be lov'd himself, needs only to be known.
Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure
Dying bless the hand that gave the blow.
Fortune, that with malicious joy, Does man her slave oppress, Proud of her office to destroy, Is seldom pleas'd to bless