"Lord of my self in Chief; when they that have / More Wealth, make that their Lord which is my Slave; / Yet I as well as they with more content, / Have in my self a Houshold-Government; / My Intellectual Soul hath there possest / The Steward's Place, to govern all the rest."
— Dunton, John (1659-1732)
And court my Eyes to wish their Treasury,
My better Will they neither could intice,
Nor this with Gold, nor that with all her Spice:
For what poor things had these Possessions shown,
When all were mine, but I were not mine own?
Others in pompous Wealth their thoughts may please,
And I am rich in wishing none of these:
For Youth, which happiness wou'd you beg first,
Still to have Drink, or never to have Thirst?
No Servants on my beck attendant stand,
Yet are my Passions all at my command;
Reason within me shall sole Ruler be,
And every Sense shall wear her Livery:
Lord of my self in Chief; when they that have
More Wealth, make that their Lord which is my Slave;
Yet I as well as they with more content,
Have in my self a Houshold-Government;
My Intellectual Soul hath there possest
The Steward's Place, to govern all the rest.
When I go forth, my Eyes two Ushers are,
And dutifully walk before me bare:
My Legs run Footman by me, go or stand;
My ready Arms wait close on either hand:
My Lips are Porters to the dangerous dore,
And either Ear a trusty Auditor:
And when abroad I go, Fancy shall be
My skilful Coachman, and shall hurry me
Through Heaven and Earth, and Neptune's watery Plain,
And in a moment drive me back again:
The Charge of all my Cellar, Thirst, is thine;
Thou Butler art, and Yeoman of my Wine:
Stomach the Cook, whose Dishes best delight,
Because their only Sauce is Appetite:
My other Cook Disgestion; where to me
Teeth Carve, and Pallate will the Taster be;
And the two Eye-lids when I go to sleep,
Like careful Grooms my silent Chamber keep;
Where lest a Cold oppress my vital part,
A gentle fire is kindled by the Heart;
And lest too great a heat procure my pain,
The Lungs fan Wind to cool those parts again.
Within the inner Closet of my Brain
Attend the nobler Members of my Train;
Invention, Master of my Mint, grows there,
And Memory, my faithful Treasurer.
And tho' in others 'tis a treacherous part,
My Tongue is SECRETARY to my Heart:
And then the PAGES of my Soul and Sence,
Love, Anger, Pleasure, Grief, Concupiscence,
And all Affections else are taught t'obey
Like Subjects, not like Favourites, to sway:
This is my MANNOR-HOUSE; Then Lad you see,
I live Great-Master of a Family.
My Wishes are but few, all easie to fulfill,
I make the Limit of my Power the Bounds unto my Will.
But should I leave or mind my Crook no more,
I might perchance get RICHES and be POOR.
Oh Humane Blindness! had you Eyes to see,
There is no Wealth to scorned Poverty!
(III, pp. 42-4)