There is a pleasure in poetic pains
Which only poets know.
Variety's the very spice of life,
That gives it all its flavor.
Book iii. The Garden.
Domestic Happiness, thou only bliss
Of Paradise that hast survived the fall!
How various his employments whom the world jails idle; and who justly in return
Esteems that busy world an idler too!
Book iv. Winter Evening.
And while the bubbling and loud hissing urn
Throws up a steamy column, and the cups
That cheer, but not inebriate, wait on each,
So let us welcome peaceful evening in.