THE SKY LARK, &c, Song

Now, Joan, we are married—and now let me say, Tho' both are in youth, yet that youth will decay; In our journey thro' life, my dear Joan I suppose, We shall oft meet a bramble, and sometimes a rose.

When a cloud on this forehead shall darken my day, Thy sunshine of sweetness must smile it away; And when the dull vapour shall dwell upon thine, To chase it, the labour and triumph be mine.

Let us wish not for wealth, to devour and consume, For luxury's but a short road to the tomb: Let us sigh not for grandeur; for trust me, my Joan, The keenest of cares owe their birth to a throne.

Thou shalt milk our ONE cow; and, if fortune pursue, In good time, with her blessing, my Joan may milk TWO: I will till our small field, whilst thy prattle and song Shall charm as I drive the bright ploughshare along.

When finish'd the day, by the fire we'll regale, And treat a good neighbour at eve with our ale; For, Joan, who would wish for SELF ONLY to live? One blessing of life, my dear girl, is to GIVE.

E'en the red breast and wren shall not seek us in vain, Whilst thou hast a crumb, or thy Corin a grain; Not only their songs will they pour from the grove, But yield, by example, sweet lessons of love.

Tho' thy beauty must fade yet thy youth I'll remember. That thy MAY was my own, when thou shewest DECEMBER: And when age to my HEAD shall his winter impart, The summer of LOVE shall reside in my HEART.