THE LAMP AND THE STAR

Yea, let me be‘ thy bachelere,’

‘ Tis sweeter than thy lord;

How should I envy him, my dear,

The lamp upon his board.

Still make his little circle bright

With boon of dear domestic light,

While I afar,

Watching his windows in the night,

Worship a star

For which he hath no bolt or bar.

Yea, dear,

Thy‘ bachelere.’