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The Home Book of Verse — Volume 2

Part 2 — WINIFREDA

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Away! let naught to love displeasing, My Winifreda, move your care; Let naught delay the heavenly blessing, Nor squeamish pride, nor gloomy fear.

What though no grants of royal donors With pompous titles grace our blood, We'll shine in more substantial honors, And, to be noble, we'll be good.

Our name, while virtue thus we tender, Will sweetly sound where'er 'tis spoke, And all the great ones, they shall wonder How they respect such little folk.

What though, from fortune's lavish bounty, No mighty treasures we possess; We'll find, within our pittance, plenty, And be content without excess.

Still shall each kind returning season Sufficient for our wishes give; For we will live life of reason, And that's the only life to live.

Through youth and age, in love excelling, We'll hand in hand together tread; Sweet smiling peace shall crown our dwelling And babes, sweet smiling babes, our bed.

How should I love the pretty creatures, While round my knees they fondly clung! To see them look their mother's features, To hear them lisp their mother's tongue!

And when with envy time transported Shall think to rob us of our joys, You'll in your girls again be courted, And I'll go wooing in my boys.

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