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Contentment; or, if You Please, Confession
By Thomas Paine
1737.1.29-1809.6.8To Mrs. Barlow, on her pleasantly telling the author, that after writing against the superstition of the Scripture religion, he was setting up a religion capable of more bigotry and enthusiasm, and more dangerous to its votaries-that of making a religion of Love.
O could we always live and love,
And always be sincere,
I would not wish for heaven above,
My heaven would be here.
Though many countries I have seen,
And more may chance to see,
My Little Corner of the World
Is half the world to me;
The other half, as you may guess,
America contains;
And thus, between them, I possess
The whole world for my pains.
I'm then contented with my lot,
I can no happier be;
For neither world I'm sure has got
So rich a man as me.
Then send no fiery chariot down
To take me off from hence,
But leave me on my heavenly ground â
This prayer is Common-sense.
Let others choose another plan,
I mean no fault to find;
The true theology of man
Is happiness of mind.
DayPoems Poem No. 2595
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