Thompson, Priscilla Jane
|A HAPPY PAIR.|
I see them coming up the road,
In buggy, time-defaced;
With lame old nag, in harness worn,
And slow and labored pace,
A humble sight they make, forsooth,
'Mid fancy turn-outs, grand,
And yet, an innate grandeur plays,
Now that they're near at hand.
The stalwart youth in neat attire,
With handsome, olive face,
Is all abeam with lover's smiles,
And love's attentive grace.
And at his side, his lady love,
With curly, midnight, hair,
And dusky cheek and jet black eye,
Is truly all that's fair.
Her blush he sees in eyes down-cast,
And smiles all modest, shy;
In confused air, to questions, bold,
She quibbles in reply.
And air of dignity doth play,
Around the pair, content;
As with a vacant stare, they view,
The rich on sport intent.
What care they for the rich man's gold,
Or scoff from high life thrown;
They live within another world,
Exclusively their own.
The rich folks, after futile jeers,
In ears that heed them not,
Sink back on cushions, rich and soft,
And envy them, their lot.
Oh happy pair! with hearts of love,
Ne'er mayst thy joy depart;
Thrice rich is he whate'er his lot;
Who hath a happy heart.