A THOUSAND joys has happy Age,
When Youth has left no sting;
A conscience sound makes life's last stage
Glide smooth on lighter wing.
'Twas eve, and aged JOHN and JEAN
Sat by their cottage door,
Who wedded fifty years had been,
Blest with content, tho' poor.
'When first,' quoth JOHN , 'your blooming face
'I mark'd, and graceful air,
'All other maidens gave you place
'At rural wake or fair.
'To you I breath'd my artless love,
'Nor was my suit deny'd;
'Heav'n seem'd our union to approve,
'And you became my bride.
'O! these were blissful days my JEAN !
'What pleasures did we quaff!
'I with delight retrace each scene,
'Now leaning on my staff!
'Two busy months I joyful spent,
'To build this humble cot;
'From that bless'd day you gave consent
'To share my humble lot!
'When Heav'n benignant on us shone,
'And me a father made,
'To mark the birth of JOHN my son,
'I form'd this seat and shade.
'The slender ivy there I plac'd,
'That clasps our cottage wall,
'That morn when Heav'n me further bless'd,
'By giving smiling SALL .
'Nor can I well describe my joy,
'When on paternal knee
'I held my darling girl or boy,
'Caress'd in turns by thee!
'Their offspring now around me set
'My aged bosom warms
'With joy alternately I get
'Each prattler in my arms!
'I tell them stories of my youth--
''I point their road to bliss;
'For my reward, each pretty mouth
'Presents me with a kiss!'
A thousand joys has happy Age,
When Youth has left no sting;
A conscience sound makes life's last stage
Glide smooth on lighter wing!