  Since I married Palemon, though happy my lot, Though my garden is pleasant, and lightsome my cot, Though love's smile, like a sunshine, I constantly see, Those blessings are all insufficient for me, I repine not at labour, I ask not for gold, But I want the sweet eyes of my friends to behold. With Palemon I think o'er the world I could roam, Though he liv'd in a desert, would make it my home. From him no allurements his Lucy could bribe, And, though timid, no dangers, no menaces drive. But the heart that can love with devotion so true, Is not cold or forgetful, my parents, to you! Oh idle declaimers! how is it ye say, That affection and tenderness fade and decay? Though so easily pain'd, they endure like a gem, And the heart and the mind imbibe colour from them! In affliction they brighten, in absence refine, And are causes of sorrow too sweet to resign. |
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