THE PRAISE OF WOMEN.
An Old English Ballad.
Both sexes, give ear to my fancy,
While the praise of a woman I sing
Confined not to Polly nor Nancy,
But alike from the beggar to king.
When Adam at first was created,
And lord of the universe crowned,
His happiness was not completed,
Because a help-meet was not found.
He had all things that were wanting,
Which yield us contentment in life;
Both horses and foxes for hunting,
Which many love more than a wife.
A garden, so planted by nature,
Man could not produce in his life;
And yet the all-wise Creator
Saw that he wanted a wife.
Old Adam was cast into slumber,
A rib taken out of his side;
And when he awoke in a wonder,
He beheld his most beautiful bride.
With transport he gazéd upon her,—
His happiness now was complete:
He praised the all-bountiful Donor,
Who thus had provided a mate.
She was not taken out of his head,
To rule and triumph over man;
Nor was she taken out of his heel,
To be ruled and trampled upon.
But she was taken out of his side,
His equal companion to be;
And thus they both were united,
And man is the top of the tree.
Then let not the fair be despiséd
By man, for she’s part of himself;
Since woman by Adam was prizéd
More than the whole world full of wealth.
For man without woman’s a beggar,
Although the whole world he possessed;
And the beggar who has a good wife,
With more than this world he is blest.