Scientific American/Series 1/Volume 1/Issue 1/Wife, Children and Friends

Wife, Children and Friends.

If the stock of our bliss be in stranger hands vested,
    The fund, ill secured, oft in bankruptcy ends;
But the heart issues bills which are never protested,
    When drawn on the firm of—wife, children and friends.

Through valour still glows in life's dying embers,
    The death-wounded tar, who his colours defends,
Drops a tear of regret as he, dying, remembers
    How blest was his home with—wife, children and friends.

The soldier, whose deeds live immortal in story,
    Whom duty to far distant latitude sends,
With transport would barter whole ages of glory
    For one happy day with—wife, children and friends.

The day-spring of youth, still unclouded by sorrow,
    Alone on itself for enjoyment depends;
But drear is the twilight of age, if it borrow
    No warmth from the smile of—wife, children and friends.

Let the breath of renown ever freshen and nourish
    The laurel which o'er the dead favourite bends,
O'er me wave the willow, and long may it flourish,
  Bedewed with the tears of—wife, children, and friends!