JT-39-WOMAN.

WOMAN.

The richest blessing men can find,
On all the earth below,
Is woman, faithful, true and kind,
Blest soother of our woe.

When elements of nature rise,
And threaten to devour,
She like an angel of the skies,
Bespeaks a milder hour.

When fortune frowns and we’re distress’d,
And thousand sorrows swell,
Her mild caresses make its blest,
We think that all is well,

In distant lands, where strangers are
Unkind, and cruel too,
Site shows the same affection there,
A tender heart and true.

She feels the weight of all our sighs,
And all our groans she hears,
She pities oft with weeping eyes,
Nor spares her streaming tears.

When sickness makes our spirits faint,
We languish and deplore,
Her fondling smiles ease all complaint,
And we repine no more.

When melancholy fills the heart,
And darkens all the day,
She has the pleasing sov’reign art,
To drive it all away.
Pure gold without her is but dross,
For gold has never blessed,
She is the crown of every loss,
The richest crown possessed.