Jupiter and the Farmer by Jean de La Fontaine

Of yore, a farm had Jupiter to rent; / To advertise it, Mercury was sent. / The farmers, far and near, / Flock'd round, the terms to hear; / And, calling to their aid / The various tricks of trade, / One said 'twas rash a farm to hire / Which would so much expense require; / Another, that, do what you would, / The farm would still be far from good. / While thus, in market style, its faults were told, / One of the crowd, less wise than bold, / Would give so much, on this condition, / That Jove would yield him altogether / The choice and making of his weather, -- / That, instantly on his decision, / His various crops should feel the power / Of heat or cold, of sun or shower.

Jove yields. The bargain closed, our man / Rains, blows, and takes the care / Of all the changes of the air, / On his peculiar, private plan. / His nearest neighbours felt it not, / And all the better was their lot. / Their year was good, by grace divine; / The grain was rich, and full the vine. / The renter, failing altogether, / The next year made quite different weather; / And yet the fruit of all his labours / Was far inferior to his neighbours'. / What better could he do? To Heaven / He owns at last his want of sense, / And so is graciously forgiven. / Hence we conclude that Providence / Knows better what we need / Than we ourselves, indeed.[1]