THE Happy Man

How happy is the man, Who has a quiet home; Who loves to do what good he can, And hates the demon, Rum.

Whose house contains enough, For him and all his folks; Whose wife abhors a box of snuff, And very seldom smokes.

Whose wife knows how to spin, And loves to use the needle; Who keeps herself and husband clean, But never lov'd a fiddle.

Whose wife is like a tree, That's ever green and fair; That ever in the bloom will be, And yet will never bear.

Whose wife will rise in season, Be weather hot or cold; And always give sufficient reason, If e'er she chance to scold.

This man, while others roam, Among the sons of strife, Is always happiest when at home, In converse with his wife.