Good! A remedy Without physician, gold, or sorcery: Away forthwith, and to
the fields repair, Begin to delve, to cultivate the ground, Thy senses and
thyself confine Within the very narrowest round, Support thyself upon the
simplest fare, Live like a very brute the brutes among, Neither esteem it
robbery The acre thou dost reap, thyself to dung; This is the best method,
credit me, Again at eighty to grow hale and young.
I am not used to it, nor can myself degrade So far, as in my hand to take the
spade. This narrow life would suit me not at all.