IIN wedlock once (’twas years agone)Were join’d a simple pair;The man in sooth was wondrous poor,The woman wondrous fair.Love is not covetous,What wonder then that they should love,As none e’er loved before;And tho’ few worldly goods they had,They coveted no more.but, whether woman’s, or man’s,For woman is a generous thing,And loves for love alone;And man he loves for beauty’s sake,And dotes on flesh and bone.For woman is a generous thing,And loves for love alone;And man he loves for beauty’s sake,And dotes on flesh and bone.consists not with starvation;But flesh and bone they must be fed,As all the world doth know;Withouten food the loveliest fleshMost hideous soon doth grow.Nor bone will thrive on love alone,If bread and meat it lacks;Withouten food, the stronger love,The weaker bone doth wax.and is perill’d by idleness,Now three weeks wedded had they been,And though he was so poor,The man, who had no goods within,Scarce passed without the door.The woman loved him still so much,She wish’d for nought instead;Yet did she pine, each night to goAll supperless to bed.One night as o’er the hearth they sat,The embers glowing bright,My dear, quoth he, most fair by dayThou’rt fairer still by night!which induces want,I too, quoth she, do love thee nowAs ne’er I loved before;Yet, were I not so hungry, IMethinks should love thee more.discontent,Alas, said he, that povertyShould such fond hearts betide!I fain would work,—but love thee so,I cannot leave thy side:and unavailing wishes:I wish that we were very rich!She answer’d,—I am thine:And, though I never cared for wealth,Thy wishes shall be mine.Scarce had they spoke when on the hearthAppear’d a little fay:So beautiful she was, the roomIt shone as bright as day.of which even the full indulgenceThen waving thrice her lily hand,In silver tones she spake;—Thrice may ye wish what wish ye please,And thrice your wish shall take.I am your guardian fay, she said,And joy to see your love:What would ye more to make you blestAs spirits are above?The beauteous fay then vanishing,The man he kiss’d his wife;And swore he never was beforeSo happy in his life.Now shall I be a lord, said he,A bishop, or a king?We’ll think it o’er to night, nor wishIn haste for any thing.would end in folly.Be it, said she; to-morrow thenWe’ll wish one wish, my dear:In the meantime, I only wishWe had some pudding here.Ah! luckless wish! upon the word,A pudding straightway came:At which the man wax’d high with rage,The woman low with shame.Then folly begets anger;And as she hid her blushing eyes,And crouch’d upon a stool;The man he rose and stamp’d his foot,And cursed her for a fool.He stamp’d his foot, and clench’d his fist,And scarce refrain’d from blows:A pudding! zounds, cried he, I wishYou had it at your nose!Up rose the pudding as he spake,And, like an air-balloon,Was borne aloft in empty space,But oh! it settled soon:and anger strife,Too soon it settled on the noseOf his unhappy wife:Alas! how soon an angry wordTurns harmony to strife!For now the woman sobb’d aloudTo feel the pudding there;And in her turn was angry too,And call’d the man a bear.followed by remorse and shame.But when their anger had burnt out,Its ash remain’d behind;Remorse and shame that they had beenSo foolish and so blind.The man brake silence first, and said,—Two wishes now are gone,And nothing gain’d; but one remains,And much may still be done.—Oh were it so! but I have gain’dWhat much I wish to lose—The woman blurted, as she sawThe pudding at her nose.Then off the pudding flew amain,And roll’d into the dish:For she in sooth unwittinglyHad wish’d the other wish.Now when the man saw what was done,His choler quick return’d;But when he look’d into her face,With love again he burn’d.But love consists with a lowly estate,For now she smiled as she was wont,And seem’d so full of charms,That all unmindful of the pastHe rush’d into her arms.Oh! how I joy thou’rt not, she said,Nor bishop, king, nor lord!I love thee better as thou art,I do, upon my word!And I, said he, do dote on thee:For now the pudding’s gone,There’s not a face in any placeSo pretty as thine own!so there be contentment,But as we have the pudding here,’Tis all we want,—said she,Suppose we just sit down awhileAnd eat it merrily.and industry.With all my heart, my love, said he,For I am hungry too:From this time forth, I’ll strive to earnEnough for me and you.Moral.The fay then reappear’d, and spakeThe moral of my song:—“Man wants but little here below,Nor wants that little long.”Love is a heavenly prize in sooth,But earthborn flesh and bone,If they would love, must live as well,And cannot love alone.Then strive to earn the bread of life,And guard your body’s health;But mark—enough is all you want,And competence is wealth.And to that happy soul, who loveWith competency blends,Contentment is a crown of joy!—And here the moral ends.
I
IN wedlock once (’twas years agone)
Were join’d a simple pair;
The man in sooth was wondrous poor,
The woman wondrous fair.
Love is not covetous,
What wonder then that they should love,
As none e’er loved before;
And tho’ few worldly goods they had,
They coveted no more.
but, whether woman’s, or man’s,
For woman is a generous thing,
And loves for love alone;
And man he loves for beauty’s sake,
And dotes on flesh and bone.
For woman is a generous thing,
And loves for love alone;
And man he loves for beauty’s sake,
And dotes on flesh and bone.
consists not with starvation;
But flesh and bone they must be fed,
As all the world doth know;
Withouten food the loveliest flesh
Most hideous soon doth grow.
Nor bone will thrive on love alone,
If bread and meat it lacks;
Withouten food, the stronger love,
The weaker bone doth wax.
and is perill’d by idleness,
Now three weeks wedded had they been,
And though he was so poor,
The man, who had no goods within,
Scarce passed without the door.
The woman loved him still so much,
She wish’d for nought instead;
Yet did she pine, each night to go
All supperless to bed.
One night as o’er the hearth they sat,
The embers glowing bright,
My dear, quoth he, most fair by day
Thou’rt fairer still by night!
which induces want,
I too, quoth she, do love thee now
As ne’er I loved before;
Yet, were I not so hungry, I
Methinks should love thee more.
discontent,
Alas, said he, that poverty
Should such fond hearts betide!
I fain would work,—but love thee so,
I cannot leave thy side:
and unavailing wishes:
I wish that we were very rich!
She answer’d,—I am thine:
And, though I never cared for wealth,
Thy wishes shall be mine.
Scarce had they spoke when on the hearth
Appear’d a little fay:
So beautiful she was, the room
It shone as bright as day.
of which even the full indulgence
Then waving thrice her lily hand,
In silver tones she spake;—
Thrice may ye wish what wish ye please,
And thrice your wish shall take.
I am your guardian fay, she said,
And joy to see your love:
What would ye more to make you blest
As spirits are above?
The beauteous fay then vanishing,
The man he kiss’d his wife;
And swore he never was before
So happy in his life.
Now shall I be a lord, said he,
A bishop, or a king?
We’ll think it o’er to night, nor wish
In haste for any thing.
would end in folly.
Be it, said she; to-morrow then
We’ll wish one wish, my dear:
In the meantime, I only wish
We had some pudding here.
Ah! luckless wish! upon the word,
A pudding straightway came:
At which the man wax’d high with rage,
The woman low with shame.
Then folly begets anger;
And as she hid her blushing eyes,
And crouch’d upon a stool;
The man he rose and stamp’d his foot,
And cursed her for a fool.
He stamp’d his foot, and clench’d his fist,
And scarce refrain’d from blows:
A pudding! zounds, cried he, I wish
You had it at your nose!
Up rose the pudding as he spake,
And, like an air-balloon,
Was borne aloft in empty space,
But oh! it settled soon:
and anger strife,
Too soon it settled on the nose
Of his unhappy wife:
Alas! how soon an angry word
Turns harmony to strife!
For now the woman sobb’d aloud
To feel the pudding there;
And in her turn was angry too,
And call’d the man a bear.
followed by remorse and shame.
But when their anger had burnt out,
Its ash remain’d behind;
Remorse and shame that they had been
So foolish and so blind.
The man brake silence first, and said,—
Two wishes now are gone,
And nothing gain’d; but one remains,
And much may still be done.—
Oh were it so! but I have gain’d
What much I wish to lose—
The woman blurted, as she saw
The pudding at her nose.
Then off the pudding flew amain,
And roll’d into the dish:
For she in sooth unwittingly
Had wish’d the other wish.
Now when the man saw what was done,
His choler quick return’d;
But when he look’d into her face,
With love again he burn’d.
But love consists with a lowly estate,
For now she smiled as she was wont,
And seem’d so full of charms,
That all unmindful of the past
He rush’d into her arms.
Oh! how I joy thou’rt not, she said,
Nor bishop, king, nor lord!
I love thee better as thou art,
I do, upon my word!
And I, said he, do dote on thee:
For now the pudding’s gone,
There’s not a face in any place
So pretty as thine own!
so there be contentment,
But as we have the pudding here,
’Tis all we want,—said she,
Suppose we just sit down awhile
And eat it merrily.
and industry.
With all my heart, my love, said he,
For I am hungry too:
From this time forth, I’ll strive to earn
Enough for me and you.
Moral.
The fay then reappear’d, and spake
The moral of my song:—
“Man wants but little here below,
Nor wants that little long.”
Love is a heavenly prize in sooth,
But earthborn flesh and bone,
If they would love, must live as well,
And cannot love alone.
Then strive to earn the bread of life,
And guard your body’s health;
But mark—enough is all you want,
And competence is wealth.
And to that happy soul, who love
With competency blends,
Contentment is a crown of joy!—
And here the moral ends.