Of A Contented Mind

When all is done and said,
  In the end this shall you find:
He most of all doth bathe in bliss
  That hath a quiet mind;
And, clear from worldly cares,
  To deem can be content
The sweetest time in all his life
  In thinking to be spent.

The body subject is
  To fickle Fortune's power,
And to a million of mishaps
  Is casual every hour;
And death in time doth change
  It to a clod of clay;
Whenas the mind, which is divine,
  Runs never to decay.

Companion none is like
  Unto the mind alone;
For many have been harmed by speech,
  Through thinking, few, or none:
Fear oftentimes restraineth words,
  But makes not thought to cease;
And he speaks best that hath the skill
  When for to hold his peace.

Our wealth leaves us at death,
  Our kinsmen at the grave;
But virtues of the mind unto
  The heavens with us we have:
Wherefore, for Virtue's sake,
  I can be well content
The sweetest time in all my life
  To deem in thinking spent.

--Sir Thomas Vaux, 1510-1556