IF I HAD A THOUSAND A-YEAR.
A BACHELOR’S LYRIC.
If I had a thousand a-year,
(How my heart at the bright vision glows!)
I should never be crusty or queer,
But all would be couleur de rose.
I’d pay all my debts, though outré,
And of duns and embarrassments clear,
Life would pass like a bright summer day,
If I had a thousand a-year.
I’d have such a spicy turn-out,
And a horse of such mettle and breed—
Whose points not a jockey should doubt,
When I put him at top of his speed.
On the foot-board, behind me to swing,
A tiger so small should appear,
All the nobs should protest “’twas the thing!”
If I had a thousand a-year.
A villa I’d have near the Park,
From Town just an appetite-ride;
With fairy-like grounds, and a bark
O’er its miniature waters to glide.
There oft, ’neath the pale twilight star,
Or the moonlight unruffled and clear,
My meerschaum I’d smoke, or cigar,
If I had a thousand a-year.
I’d have pictures and statues, with taste—
Such as ladies unblushing might view—
In my drawing and dining-rooms placed,
With many a gem of virtù.
My study should be an affair
The heart of a book-worm to cheer—
All compact, with its easy spring chair,
If I had a thousand a-year.
A cellar I’d have quite complete
With wines, so recherché, well stored;
And jovial guests often should meet
Round my social and well-garnish’d board.
But I would have a favourite few,
To my heart and my friendship more dear;
And I’d marry—I mustn’t tell who—
If I had a thousand a-year.
With comforts so many, what more
Could I ask of kind Fortune to grant?
Humph! a few olive branches—say four—
As pets for my old maiden aunt.
Then, with health, there’d be nought to append.
To perfect my happiness here;
For the utile et duloc would blend.
If I had a thousand a-year.