A POEM TO INCREASE YOUR HAPPINESS QUOTIENT

 

  Happy Life is a life well lived. It is in high demand these with too much disturbance caused by internal and external factors. Here is a poem where the poet describes the true meaning of happy life and shares with the readers to practice a  particular way of life.

The Character of a Happy Life by Sir Henry Wooton is one of my favourite poems.  It was published as a part of the collection ‘Reliquiae Wottonianae’ (1651) and is one of his most famous works. The poem lists the attributes possessed by one who is truly happy and showcases the path to a good and content life.

The poet wants the readers to know the secret of a happy life. A truly happy person leads an honest life. He is jealous of none. He is content with whatever he has. He is not a slave of his passions. He prays to God daily and follows the path of goodness. He may be poor from the worldly point of view but because of his good qualities, he is the richest man in the world.

The poet deals with the themes like happiness, joy, simplicity, and religion. This poem suggests to practice truthfulness, humility, piety and self –reliance to lead a steady and happy life. The way to live well independently and being accountable only to oneself and to God is the sure way to a happy life though the world around is corrupt.

Reading this poem often makes me strengthen by guts and keeping going with simple practices. Read the full poem here:

How happy is he born and taught

 That serveth not another’s will;

 Whose armour is his honest thought,

 And simple truth his utmost skill!

  

 Whose passions not his masters are;

 Whose soul is still prepared for death,

 Untied unto the world by care

 Of public fame or private breath;

  

 Who envies none that chance doth raise,

 Nor vice; who never understood

 How deepest wounds are given by praise;

 Nor rules of state, but rules of good;

  

 Who hath his life from rumours freed;

 Whose conscience is his strong retreat;

 Whose state can neither flatterers feed,

 Nor ruin make oppressors great;

  

 Who God doth late and early pray

 More of His grace than gifts to lend;

 And entertains the harmless day

 With a religious book or friend;

  

 This man is freed from servile bands

 Of hope to rise or fear to fall:

 Lord of himself, though not of lands,

 And having nothing, yet hath all.

(This blogpost is part of BlogChatter's #TBRChallnege 2023.   Prompt :A blogpost on your favourite poetry book or a poem)