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My Minde to Me a Kindome Is; Such present joys therein I find, That it excels all other bliss That earth affords or grows by kind: Though much I want which most would have, Yet still my mind forbids to crave.
Some have too much, yet still do crave; I little have, and seek no more: They are but poor, though much they have, And I am rich with little store: They poor, I rich; they beg, I give; They lack, I have; they pine, I live.