Joy above Wealth.

‘ Want was my dread, my wishes were but few;

Others might doubt, but JANE those wishes knew:

This Gold may rid my heart of pains and sighs;

But her true love is still my greatest prize,

Long as I live, when this bright day comes round,

Beneath my Roof your noble deeds shall sound;

But, first, to make my gratitude appear,

I'll shoe your Honour's Horses for a Year;

If clouds should threaten when your Corn is down,

I'll lend a hand, and summon half the town;

If good betide, I'll sound it in my songs,

And be the first avenger of your wrongs:

Though rude in manners, free I hope to live:

This Ale's not mine, no Ale have I to give;

Yet, Sir, though Fortune frown'd when I was born,

Let's drink eternal friendship from this Horn.

How much our present joy to you we owe,

Soon our three Bells shall let the Neighbours know;