Happiness is the temperate feast of life

 Calmly he look'd on either life, and here

Saw nothing to regret, and there to fear;

From nature's temp'rate feast rose satisfy'd,

Thank'd heav'n that he had liv'd, and that he dy'd.

 

-- Alexander Pope

Happiness is the master-hand

Musick resembles poetry; in each

Are nameless graces which no methods teach,

And which a master-hand alone can reach.

-- Alexander Pope

Happiness is the humbler joys of homefelt quiet

Happy next him who to these shades retires,

Whom nature charms, and whom the muse inspires,

Whom humbler joys of homefelt quiet please,

Successive study, exercise, and ease.

-- Alexander Pope

Happiness is making fun of politicians

 

Coffee, which makes the politician wise,

And see through all things with his half-shut eyes,

Sent up in vapours to the baron's brain

New stratagems, the radiant lock to gain.

-- Alexander Pope

Happiness is the misty morning

When first the sun too pow'rful beams displays,

It draws up vapours which obscure its rays:

But ev'n those clouds at last adorn its way,

Reflect new glories, and augment the day.

-- Alexander Pope

Happiness is an invitation at Thanksgiving

 

 

Wines and cates the tables grace,

But most the kind inviter's cheerful face.

-- Alexander Pope

Happiness is the sight of you

Go, gentle gales, and bear my sighs along!
The birds shall cease to tune their evening song,
The winds to breathe, the waving woods to move,
And streams to murmur, ere I cease to love.
Not bubbling fountains to the thirsty swain,
Not balmy sleep to labourers faint with pain,

Not showers to larks, or sunshine to the bee,

Are half so charming as thy sight to me.

-- Alexander Pope, Autumn

Happiness is in nothing too little and nothing too much

 

 

Avoid extremes, and shun the faults of such

Who still are pleas'd too little, or too much.

-- Alexander Pope

On Barbecue

"A term used in the West Indies for dressing a hog whole."

     -- Samuel Johnson's Dictionary 

Oldfield, with more than harpy throat endued,

Cries, Send me, gods, a whole hog barbecued.

     -- Alexander Pope