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Alfred Austin - Content Written Off Ithica
Work rating: Low

I could not find the little maid Content,
 So out I rushed, and sought her far and wide;
 But not where Pleasure each new fancy tried,
 Heading the maze of reeling merriment,
 Nor where, with restless eyes and bow half bent,
 Love in a brake of sweetbrier smiled and sighed,
 Nor yet where Fame towered crowned and glorified,
 Found I her face, nor wheresoe`er I went.
 So homeward back I crawled like wounded bird,
 When lo! Content sate spinning at my door:
 And when I asked her where she was before—
 ``Here all the time,`` she said; ``I never stirred;
 Too eager in your search, you passed me o`er,
 And, though I called, you neither saw nor heard.``
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