There lived in Lombardy, as authors write, In days of old, a wise and worthy knight; Of gentle manners, as of generous race, Bless'd with much sense, more riches, and some grace: Yet, led astray by Venus' soft delights, He scarce could rule some idle appetites: For long ago, let priests say what they could, Weak sinful laymen were but flesh and blood. But in due time, when sixty years were o'er, He vow'd to lead this vicious life no more; 10 Whether pure holiness inspired his mind, Or dotage turn'd his brain, is hard to find; But his high courage prick'd him forth to wed, And try the pleasures of a lawful bed. This was his nightly dream, his daily care, And to the heavenly powers his constant prayer, Once, ere he died, to taste the blissful life Of a kind husband and a loving wife. These thoughts he fortified with reasons still (For none want reasons to confirm their will). 20 Grave authors say, and witty poets sing, That honest wedlock is a glorious thing: But depth of judgment most in him appears Who wisely weds in his maturer years. Then let him choose a damsel young and fair, To bless his age, and bring a worthy heir; To soothe his cares, and, free from noise and strife, Conduct him gently to the verge of life. Let sinful bachelors their woes deplore, Full well they merit all they feel, and more: 30 Unawed by precepts, human or divine, Like birds and beasts, promiscuously they join; Nor know to make the present blessing last, To hope the future, or esteem the past: But vainly boast the joys they never tried, And find divulged the secrets they would hide. The married man may bear his yoke with ease, Secure at once himself and Heaven to please; And pass his inoffensive hours away, In bliss all night, and innocence all day: 40 Though fortune change, his constant spouse remains, Augments his joys, or mitigates his pains. But what so pure which envious tongues will spare? Some wicked wits have libell'd all the fair. With matchless impudence they style a wife The dear-bought curse, and lawful plague of life; A bosom serpent, a domestic evil, A night invasion, and a midday devil. Let not the wise these slanderous words regard, But curse the bones of every lying bard. 50 All other goods by fortune's hand are given, A wife is the peculiar gift of Heaven. Vain fortune's favours, never at a stay, Like empty shadows, pass, and glide away; One solid comfort, our eternal wife, Abundantly supplies us all our life: This blessing lasts (if those who try say true) As long as heart can wish--and longer too. Our grandsire Adam, ere of Eve possess'd, Alone, and e'en in Paradise unbless'd, 60 With mournful looks the blissful scenes survey'd, And wander'd in the solitary shade. The Maker saw, took pity, and bestow'd Woman, the last, the best reserved of God.