The Old Man's Wish:
This Old Man he doth wish for Wealth in vain,
But he doth not the Treasure gain;
For if with Wishes he the same could have,
He would not mind nor think upon the Grave.
To a pleasant New Play-house Tune.
IF I live to grow Old,
(for I find I go down)
Let this be my Fate
in a Country Town;
Let me have a warm House,
with a Stone at the Gate,
And a cleanly young Girl
to rub my bald Pate:
May I govern my Passion
with an absolute sway,
And grow wiser and better,
as my Strength wears away;
Without Gout or Stone,
by a gentle Decay.
In a Country Town.
by a murmuring Brook,
The Ocean at distance
on which I may look:
With a spacious Plain,
without Hedge or Stile,
And an easie Pad-nagg
to ride out a Mile:
May I govern my Passion
with an absolute sway,
To grow wiser and better,
as my Strength wears away;
Without Gout or Stone,
by a gentle Decay.
With a Pudding on
Sunday,
and stout humming Liquor,
And Remnants of Latine
to puzzle the Vicar;
With a hidden reserve
of
Burgundy Wine,
To drink the King's Health
as oft as I dine:
May I govern my Passion
with an absolute sway,
And grow wiser and better,
as my Strength wears away;
Without Gout or Slone,
by a gentle Decay.
With
Plutarch and
Horace,
and one or two more
Of the best Wits that liv'd
in the Ages before;
With a Dish of Roast Mutton,
not Venison nor Teal,
And clean (tho' coarse) Linnen
at every Meal;
May I govern my Passion, &c.
And if I should have Guest,
I must add to my Wish,
On
Frydays a Mess
of good buttered Fish;
For full well I do know,
and the Truth I reveal,
I had better do so,
than come short of a Meal:
May I govern my Passion, &c.
With Breeches and Ierkin
of good Country Gray,
And live without Working,
now my Strength doth decay:
With a Hogs-head of Sherry,
for to drink when I please,
With Friends to be merry,
and to live at my ease;
May I govern my Passion, &c.
Without Molestation
may I spend my last Days,
In sweet Recreation,
and sound forth the Praise
Of all those that are true
to the King and his Laws,
Since it be their due,
they shall have my Applause:
May I govern my Passion, &c.
With a Country Scribe
for to write my last Will,
But not of the Tribe
that in chousing have Skill:
For my easie Pad-nagg,
I'll bequeath to
Don John,
For he's an arch Wag,
and a jolly old Man:
May I govern my Passion, &c.
With Courage undaunted
may I face my last Day;
And when I am dead,
may the better sort say,
In the Morning when sober,
in the Evening when mellow,
He's gone, and has left
not behind him his Fellow:
For he govern'd his Passion
with an absolute sway,
And grew wiser and better
as his strength wore away,
Without Gout or Stone,
by a gentle Decay.
Printed by W. O. for B. Deacon, at the Angel in Guilt-spur-street.