MY WISHES Oh! Could I acquire my fullest desire. To mould my own life, were it given; I would be like the sage, who in happy old age. Disowns every link -- but with heaven. An acre or two, as my wants would be few, Could supply quite enough for my welfare; In that scope I would deem my power supreme, And acknowledge no king but -- myself there. The soil of this spot, the best to be got, Should furnish me fruit -- and a choice store; Be sheltered and warm from rain and from storm, And favoured with sunshine and moisture. My home should abound, and my table be crowned With comfort, but not ostentation; The music of mirth should hum round my hearth, And books be my night's recreation: Delightful retreat, in simplicity sweet! A wood and a streamlet should bound it; And the birds when I wake, from each bower and brake, Should pour their wild melodies round it. This streamlet midst flowers, and murmuring bowers, In the shade of rich fruits should meander; While the brisk finny race, o'er its sunshiny face, Should leap -- flit -- and sportively wander. These joys -- yet one more might enliven my store, Redouble each comfort and pleasure; A wife, of such truth, such virtue and youth, That her smiles would be more than a treasure. Let nineteen, and no more, to my twenty-four, Be the scale of her years to the letter; Then a babe every Easter, I think won't molest her, No -- I warrant she'll like me the better. -- Patrick HEALY (18th c.), Translated by John D'Alton Note - race/strong, flowing water