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 | Poems on Affairs of State |  |
The Old Man's Wish.
If I live to grow old, as I find I go down,
Let this be my Fate in a Country Town:
May I have a warm House, with a Stone at my Gate,
And a cleanly young Girl to rub my bald Pate.
Let this be my Fate in a Country Town:
May I have a warm House, with a Stone at my Gate,
And a cleanly young Girl to rub my bald Pate.
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May I govern my Passion with an absolute Sway,
And grow wiser and better as my Strength wears away,
Without Gout or Stone, by a gentle Decay.
And grow wiser and better as my Strength wears away,
Without Gout or Stone, by a gentle Decay.
In a Country Town, by a murm'ring Brook,
With th'Ocean at distance on which I may look;
With a spacious Plain without Hedg or Stile,
And an easy Pad-nag to ride out a Mile.
With th'Ocean at distance on which I may look;
With a spacious Plain without Hedg or Stile,
And an easy Pad-nag to ride out a Mile.
May I govern, &c.
With Horace and Plutarch, and one or two more
Of the best Wits that liv'd in the Ages before;
With a Dish of Roast-Mutton, not Ven'son nor Teal,
And clean tho coarse Linen at ev'ry Meal.
Of the best Wits that liv'd in the Ages before;
With a Dish of Roast-Mutton, not Ven'son nor Teal,
And clean tho coarse Linen at ev'ry Meal.
May I govern, &c.
With a Pudding on Sunday, and stout humming Liquor,
And Remnants of Latin to puzzle the Vicar;
With a hidden Reserve of Burgundy Wine,
To drink the King's Health as oft as we dine.
And Remnants of Latin to puzzle the Vicar;
With a hidden Reserve of Burgundy Wine,
To drink the King's Health as oft as we dine.
May I govern, &c.
With a Courage undaunted may I face my last Day,
And when I am dead, may the better Sort say,
In the Morning when sober, in the Evening when mellow,
He is gone, and han't left behind him his Fellow;
For he govern'd his Passion, &c.
And when I am dead, may the better Sort say,
In the Morning when sober, in the Evening when mellow,
He is gone, and han't left behind him his Fellow;
For he govern'd his Passion, &c.
| Poems on Affairs of State | |