Give me not wordly gifts nor selfish pleasures, for in them I find no true happiness.
Rather, give me a small, quiet woodland glade. Let it die in the winter, and rise again in the spring. Let the summers be green, and fall filled with all the shades of heaven. Let inly the deer have walked there, and birds soared, Let it be filled with wildflowers whose colors sway in the evening breeze. Let there be a small stream with a quiet chuckle that may put me to sleep.
Give me this so that I may write song and story, live in peace , and have repose all the rest of my days.