To own the land which once I plough’d.
With money plenty in my bags,
I’d keep my gig and brace of nags;
My cellars should be duly stor’d,
And beef should smoke upon my board:
Besides I’d keep my pack of hounds—
Squire Homespun! Lord how fine it sounds!
Have it, said Susan, as you will;
But sure My Lord! sounds finer still;