In days of old, a wife and worthy knight;
Of gentle manners, as of gen'rous race,
Bleft with much sense, more riches, and fome grace.
Yet led aftray by Venus' soft delights,
He fcarce could rule fome idle appetites :
For long ago, let Priests say what they cou'd,
Weak finful laymen were but flesh and blood.
But in due time, when fixty years were o'er,
He vow'd to lead this vitious life no more;
Whether pure holiness inspir'd his mind,
Or dotage turn'd his brain, is hard to find;
But his high courage prick'd him forth to wed,
And try the pleasures of a lawful bed.
JANUARY AND MAY) This Translation was done at
fixteen or seventeen years of Age. P.
Old as he was, and void of Eye-sight too,
What cou'd alas! a helpless Husband do
This was his nightly dream, his daily care,
And to the heav'nly pow'rs his constant pray'r,
Once, ere he dy'd, to taste the blissful life
Of a kind husband and a loving wife.
These thoughts he fortify'd with reasons still, (For none want reasons to confirm their will.) 20
Grave authors say, and witty poets fing,
That honeft wedlock is a glorious thing:
But depth of judgment most in him appears,
Who wisely weds in his maturer years.
Then let him chuse a damsel young and fair,
To bless his age, and bring a worthy heir;
To footh his cares, and, free from noise and strife,
Conduct him gently to the verge of life.
Let finful batchelors their woes deplore,
Full well they merit all they feel, and mores:
Unaw'd by precepts, human or divine,
Like birds and beasts, promifcuously they join:
Nor know to make the present blessing last,
To hope the future, or esteem the past:
But vainly boaft the joys they never try'd,
And find divulg'd the fecrets they would hide.
The marry'd man may bear his yoke with ease,
Secure at once himself and heav'n to please;
And pass his inoffenfive hours away,
In bliss all night, and innocence all day :
Tho' fortune change, his constant fpouse remains,
Augments his joys, or mitigates his pains.
But what so pure, which envious tongues will fpare?
Some wicked wits have libell'd all the fair.
With matchless impudence they style a wife
The dear-bought curse, and lawful plague of life;
A bofom-ferpent, a domestic evil,
A night-invasion, and a mid-day-devil.
Let not the wife these sland'rous words regard,
But curse the bones of ev'ry lying bard.
All other goods by fortune's hand are giv'n,
A wife is the peculiar gift of heav'n.
Vain fortune's favours, never at a stay,
Like empty shadows, pass, and glide away;
One folid comfort, our eternal wife,
Abundantly supplies us all our life :
This bleffing lasts (if those who try, say true)
As long as heart can wish - and longer too.
Our grandfire Adam, ere of Eve possess'd,
Alone, and ev'n in Paradise unbless'd,
With mournful looks the blissful scenes survey'd,
And wander'd in the folitary shade.
The Maker faw, took pity, and bestow'd
Woman, the last, the best referv'd of God.
A Wife! ah gentle deities, can he
That has a wife, e'er feel adversity?
Would men but follow what the sex advise,
All things would profper, all the world grow wife.
'Twas by Rebecca's aid that Jacob won His father's bleffing from an elder fon:
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