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The Prudent Wife.

We’ll go to the bush, and adieu bid the city gay,
Where much vexation encumbers us daily;
Where life’s little pleasures have nought of vivacity,
Yet are expensive in seeming so gaily.
Off with all rout and ball, ever shall be my call,
Tea-table gossips me sicken sincerely;
Oh for joy! whose alloy never can peace destroy,
Such have I wished, and will seek it most dearly.

My silks and brocade, though I change for the russet gown,
Love won’t be less, while contentment’s my measure
Of happiness true, of which here it is little known,
Even ’mid circles in quest of such pleasure.
Ill the toil, to beguile time that will yet recoil
Painful sensations, to end in deep sorrow;
But t’emprove time, my love, still let it us behove,
Nought we’ll regret on the coming of morrow.

This mansion of paint, with our humble bush dwelling, shall
Ne’er be compared for true comfort and pleasure;
For industry’s ’joyments, all others excelling, shall
Yield us delights in good earnest and measure.
Such alone will atone for any loss that’s known,
Fancied or real, in such an exchange, love;
While to be ever free from the annoyance we
Oft now endure, will repay in full change, love.

When daily toils o’er, and around our hearth blazing,
Assembled we sit with our fam’ly so cheerie;
We’ll smile o’er the past while enjoying the blessing,
Which bounteous Providence grants to the weary;
page 35 No employ I’ll enjoy better than to destroy
Any regrettings that chance may bring o’er thee.
Be in cheer, husband dear, love shall be comforter;
Leave all thy sorrows for good that’s before thee.