THE BATCHELOR’S WISH.
Free from bustle, care and strife,
Of this short various scene of life,
O, let me spend my days.
In rural sweetness with a friend,
To whom I may my mind unbend,
Not censure heed, or praise.
Though not extravagant, or near,
Yet through the well-spent checquer’d year,
I’d have enough to leave.
To drink a bottle with a friend,
Assist him in distress, not lend,
But rather freely give.
Riches bring care, I ask not wealth,
Let me enjoy but peace and health;
I envy not the great.
’Tis peace alone can make me bless’d.
The rich may take to east, or west,
I claim not wealth or state.
I too would chuse to sweeten life,
A tender, mild, good-natur’d wife,
Young, sensible, and fair.
One who would love but me alone;
Prefer my cottage to a throne,
And soothe my every care.
Thus happy with my wife and friend;
My days I carefully would spend,
By no sad thoughts oppress’d.
If heaven has bliss for me in store,
Grant me but this, I ask no more,
And I am truly bless’d.
NEW-YORK: Printed by JOHN BULL, No. 115, Cherry-Street, where every Kind of Printing work is executed with the utmost Accuracy and Dispatch.—Subscriptions for this Magazine (at 2s. per month) are taken in at the Printing-Office, and by E. MITCHELL, Bookseller, No. 9, Maiden-Lane.