The poem
Bed and bread are all I need In my happy day; Love of Nature is my creed, Unto her I pray; Sun and sky my spirit feed On my happy way.
To no man I bow the head, None may master me; I will eat my crust of bread Lauding liberty; And upon my truckle bed Glory to be free.
You who grab for sordid gold, You who fight for fame, Shiny dross your fingers hold, Empty is your aim. --Soon we fatten graveyard mould, Rich and poor the same.
So from world of want and woe I retreat with dread; Tuned to Nature glad I go With my bite of bread: Praising God I lay me low On my truckle bed.