How happy is he born and taught,
That serveth not another's will;
Whose armor is his honest thought,
And simple truth his utmost skill!
Whose passions not his masters are,
Whose soul is still prepared for death,
Untied unto the worldly care
Of public fame, or private breath;
Who envies none that chance doth raise,
Or vice; who never understood
How deepest wounds are given by praise;
Nor rules of state, but rules of good:
Who hath his life from rumors freed,
Whose conscience is his strong retreat;
Whose state can neither flatterers fee,
Nor ruin make oppressors great;
Who God doth late and early pray,
More of his grace than gifts to lend;
And entertains the harmless day
With a religious book or friend
This man is freed from servile bands,
Of hope to rise, or fear to fall;
Lord of himself, though not of lands;
And having nothing, yet hath all.
HT: William Bennett's Book of Virtues, Honesty chapter
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