Bibliography. The Poets and Poetry of the West, by W. T. Coggeshall (Columbus, Ohio, 1860); History of Kentucky, by R. H. Collins (Covington, Kentucky, 1882); The Shreve Family, by L. P. Allen (Greenfield, Illinois).
I HAVE NO WIFE
[From The Knickerbocker Magazine (August, 1838)]
I have no wife—and I can go
Just where I please, and feel as free
As crazy winds which choose to blow
Round mountain-tops their melody.
On those who have Love's race to run,
Hope, like a seraph, smiles most sweet—
But they who Hymen's goal have won,
Sometimes, 'tis said, find Hope a cheat.
I have no wife—young girls are fair—
But how it is, I cannot tell,
No sooner are they wed, than their
Enchantments give them the farewell.
The girls, oh, bless them! make us yearn
To risk all odds and take a wife—
To cling to one, and not to turn
Ten thousand in the dance of life.
I have no wife:—Who'd have his nose
Forever tied to one lone flower,
E'en if that flower should be a rose,
Plucked with light hand from fairy bower?
Oh! better far the bright bouquet
Of flowers of every hue and clime;
By turns to charm the sense away,
And fill the heart with dreams sublime.
I have no wife:—I now can change
From grave to joy, from light to sad
Unfettered, in my freedom range
And fret awhile, and, then, be glad.
I now can heed a Siren's tongue,
And feel that eyes glance not in vain—
Make love apace, and, being flung,
Get up and try my luck again.
I have no wife to pull my hair
If it should chance entangled be—
I'm like the lion in his lair,
Who flings his mane about him free.
If 'tis my fancy, I can wear
My boots unblessed by blacking paste,
Cling to my coat till it's threadbare,
Without a lecture on bad taste.
I have no wife, and I can dream
Of girls who're worth their weight in gold;
Can bask my heart in Love's broad beam,
And dance to think it's yet unsold.
Or I can look upon a brow
Which mind and beauty both enhance,
Go to the shrine, and make my bow,
And thank the Fates I have a chance.
I have no wife, and, like a wave,
Can float away to any land,
Curl up and kiss, or gently lave
The sweetest flowers that are at hand.
A Pilgrim, I can bend before
The shrine which heart and mind approve;—
Or, Persian like, I can adore
Each star that gems the heaven of love.