The Happiest Man

The happiest man I ever knew
Was one who took no wife;
Nor to a lover was he true,
Or anything but his life,

For his life was his musical art,
The turn of pipes and tune.
And he sang with all his heart
Of glory night and noon.

The youngest man I ever knew
Was not one who cheated Time;
Nor did he keep his heart true
To one unchanging clime,

But moved with ever-changing form
In poet's words and part.
To his last breath, his soul was warm
With the sunlight of his art.

The greatest man I ever knew
Was not made of austere control;
Nor even to his own self was he true,
But worshipped beauty in his soul,

And gave his time to admiration
Of all that was great in life.
His friend and companion was creation,
And art his goddess and his wife.

The happiest men I ever knew
Were not given to almsgiving;
Indeed, to nothing real were they true,
But to art, and joy, and living,

Not yielding an inch to misery,
Neither in spirit nor in heart.
As laughter or lightning they were free,
For they loved not men, but Art.