  “MAN WANTS BUT LITTLE HERE BELOW” LITTLE I ask; my wants are few; I only wish a hut of stone (A very plain brown stone will do) That I may call my own; And close at hand is such a one, In yonder street that fronts the sun. Plain food is quite enough for me; Three courses are as good as ten; If Nature can subsist on three, Thank Heaven for three—Amen! I always thought cold victual nice— My choice would be vanilla-ice. I care not much for gold or land; Give me a mortgage here and there, Some good bank-stock, some note of hand, Or trifling railroad share. I only ask that Fortune send A little more than I shall spend. Honours are silly toys, I know, And titles are but empty names; I would, perhaps, be Plenipo— But only near St. James; I’m very sure I should not care To fill our Gubernator’s chair. Jewels are baubles; ’tis a sin To care for such unfruitful things; One good-sized diamond in a pin, Some, not so large, in rings, A ruby, and a pearl or so, Will do for me; I laugh at show. My dame should dress in cheap attire (Good, heavy silks are never dear); I own, perhaps, I might desire Some shawls of true Cashmere— Some marrowy crapes of China silk, Like wrinkled skins on scalded milk. Wealth’s wasteful tricks I will not learn, Nor ape the glitt’ring upstart fool; Shall not carved tables serve my turn, But all must be of buhl? Give grasping pomp its double care— I ask but one recumbent chair. Thus humble let me live and die, Nor long for Midas’ golden touch; If Heaven more gen’rous gifts deny, Too grateful for the blessing lent Of simple tastes and mind content! Oliver Wendell Holmes. |
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