Ah, the vanishing joy of the greedy;
And more has come under my eager eyes,
Seeing the re-filled cup of the needy.
But never a joy I’ve felt was my own—
Which bachelor old and maiden know not—
Is equal to that when I return home,
My humble home, yet delectable spot,
And take to my heart my own little girl,
All laughter and love—the joy of my life.
Right here let me rest, far away the mad whirl,