For a home with the heart and the hand of the fair?
Why cheat expectation while time circles on,
And marry a girl, in your fortieth year?
With no one to share life’s troubles and crosses,
Or cheer you with smiles when sickness is near,
Or console you amidst your privations and losses,
Would you wait for a bride till your fortieth year?
Why not taste of the fountain of pleasure while beauty,
Lends grace to the features now withered and sere?
Oh! lose not the chance, for numbers will suit ye,