And she’s sick the whole year round.
I know,” said Kate, &c.
“They are worth their thousands, so people say,
But I ne’er saw them happy yet;
’Twould not be me that would take their gold,
And live in a constant fret.
My humble home has a light within,
Mrs. Bell’s gold could not buy—
Six lovely children, a merry heart,
And a husband’s love-lit eye,