Sonnet - To Simplicity - By Samuel Taylor Coleridge

O! I do love thee, meek Simplicity!
  For of thy lays the lulling simpleness
  Goes to my heart and soothes each small distress,
  Distress though small, yet haply great to me!
  'Tis true on Lady Fortune's gentlest pad
  I amble on; yet, though I know not why,
  So sad I am!--but should a friend and I
  Grow cool and miff, O! I am very sad!
  And then with sonnets and with sympathy
  My dreamy bosom's mystic woes I pall;
  Now of my false friend plaining plaintively,
  Now raving at mankind in general;
  But, whether sad or fierce, 'tis simple all,
  All very simple, meek Simplicity!