"Enough of these. Now tell us, if you can,
Is there that thing on earth, "
Well then, the wondrous man I happy call,
Has but few wishes, and enjoys them all.
Blest in his fame, and in his fortune blest,
No craving void lies aching in his breast.
His passions cool, his expectations low,
Can he feel want, or disappointment know?
Yet if success be to his virtues giv'n,
Can relish that, and leave the rest to Heav'n.