[From Mona's Isle, 1844]


I’VE thought, my good old trusty friend,
Just now as I have time,
To thee from Malta’s rock to send
A verse or two in rhyme;
And though the feet may not well meet
To form good verse or measure,
In them thou’lt find my very mind
Display’d, dear Tom, with pleasure.

I trust thou art in perfect health,
As well’s thy constant Jane,
(Without its balm all earthly wealth,
Or pleasures, are but vain,)
And with good will,
I wish thee still Through life, without alloy
Of worldly care, an ample share
Of happiness and joy.

May thou and Jenny, hand in hand,
Your offspring by your side,
Adown life’s stream, ‘neath Heaven’s command,
With resignation glide;
And may you see your progeny
To generations rise,
And round you shine, in life’s decline,
To cheer your aged eyes.

And when your earthly journey’s o’er,
And all your troubles past,
May you arrive at that blest shore
Where virtue rests at last
From cares of life, and worldly strife,
Which never cease below,
For while we’re here, we still must share
Our part of earthly woe.

And as for me, my trusty friend,
I’m born to nought but care,
Though what high Heaven behoves to send
God gives me strength to bear;
And when mankind perplex my mind,
As through this life I roam,
I find relief, amidst my grief,
In Mary, thee, and home.

And thou hast got thy Jenny, too,
To cheer thee on the road
Along this life’s rough journey through,
And share thy care-fraught load:
Then let not care, with such a pair,
E’er enter in our breast,
But let our toast be still to boast
Of wives the very best!

If there’s a blessing here below
To smooth man’s chequer’d life,
And make his heart with pleasure glow,
It is a virtuous wife ;—
Then from my gill my glass I’ll fill,
And give the favourite toast—
" Come, while we drink, still may we think
Of those we love the most!"


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