Here's a health to my true love

To me what are riches encumber'd with care?

To me what is pomp's insignificant glare?

No minion of fortune, no pageant of state,

Shall ever induce me to envy his fate.

With vigour, O teach me, kind heaven, to sustain

Those ills which in life to be suffer'd remain;

And, when it's allow'd me the goal to descry,

For my species I liv'd, for myself let me die.