Me, who have lived so long among the great, You wonder to hear talk of a retreat:
And a retreat so distant, as may show No thoughts of a return when once I go.
Give me a country, how remote so e'er, Where happiness a moderate rate does bear, Where poverty itself in plenty flows And all the solid use of riches knows.
The ground about the house maintains it there, The house maintains the ground about it here.
Here even hunger's dear, and a full board Devours the vital substance of the lord.
The land itself does there the feast bestow, The land itself must here to market go.
Three or four suits one winter here does waste, One suit does there three or four winters last.
Here every frugal man must oft be cold, And little lukewarm fires are to you sold.
There fire's an element as cheap and free Almost as any of the other three.
Stay you then here, and live among the great, Attend their sports, and at their tables eat.
When all the bounties here of men you score:
The Place's bounty there, shall give me more.
