TO MY WIFE.

Ellen, dear, it is clear

I have not half thy merits told;

Sweet of life, lovely wife,

More precious thou hast been than gold.

Listen now; truth I trow

Will be my guide while I relate

What pure love, sweetest dove,

Thou still hast shown in marriage state.

When I'm ill thou dost fill

The office of a comforter;

Soothing sickness with such quickness

That disease seems banished far.

If low spirits we inherit,

Thou swiftly drivest them away

By sweet song all day long,

Until I feel quite young and gay.

Then our house, tidy spouse,

Is kept by thee so trim and neat,

That from home I'll not roam

To try and find a snug retreat.

Of girls and boys, and many joys,

We have, my dearest, quite our share;

How to use them, not abuse them,

Should always be our constant care.

But alas! how soon pass

All present good desires away.

Feel we weakness? then in meekness

Let us unto our Father pray.

He is strong, and has long

Upheld us by His mighty arm;

O how glorious! Faith victorious

Will us preserve always from harm.

Then let us pray, love, day by day,

That our dear children may be brought

Into His fold, ere they are old:

Even as God himself hath taught.

O, what pleasure in rich measure

We then should feel, my own true love!

For naught ever could us sever,

But all at last would dwell above —

By God's grace in that place

Inhabited by Spirits bright.

This secured, we allured,

Might view by Faith the glorious sight.