I want a garden and a park,
My dwelling to surround-

A thousand acres (bless the mark!)

With walls encompassed round-

Where flocks may range and herds may low,

And kids and lambkins play,

And flowers and fruits commingled grow,

All Eden to display.

I want, when summer's foliage falls,

And autumn strips the trees,

A house within the city's walls,
For comfort and for ease;

But here, as space is somewhat scant,

And acres somewhat rare,

My house in town I only want
To occupy-a square.

I want a steward, butler, cooks;
A coachman, footman, grooms;
A library of well-bound books;
And picture-garnished rooms;

I want a cabinet profuse,

Of medals, coins, and gems;
A printing-press for private use,

Of fity-thousand ems;

And plants, and minerals, and shells;

Worms, insects, fishes, birds;

And every beast on earth that dwells

In solitude or herds.

I want a board of burnish'd plate,
Of silver and of gold;

Tureens, of twenty pounds in weight,
And sculpture's richest mould;

Plateaus, with chandeliers and lamps, Plates, dishes-all the same;

And porcelain vases, with the stamps
Of Sevres and Angouleme.

And maples of fair glossy stain,
Must form my chamber doors,
And carpets of the Wilton grain
Must cover all my floors;

My walls with tapestry bedeck'd,
Must never be outdone;

And damask curtains must protect
Their colours from the sun.

And mirrors of the largest pane,
From Venice must be brought;
And sandal-wood and bamboo-cane
For chairs and tables bought;
On all the mantel-pieces, clocks
Of thrice-gilt bronze must stand,
And screens of ebony and box
Invite the stranger's hand.

I want (who does not want?) a wife,
Affectionate and fair,

To solace all the woes of life,

And all its joys to share.

Of temper sweet, of yielding will,

Of firm yet placid mind,

With all my faults to love me still,

With sentiment refined.

And as time's car incessant runs,

And fortune fills my store,

I want of daughters and of sons
From eight to half a score.

I want (alas! can mortal dare
Such bliss on earth to crave?)

That all the girls be chaste and fair--
The boys all wise and brave.

And when my bosom's darling sings,
With melody divine,

A pedal harp of many strings

Must with her voice combine.
Piano, exquisitely wrought,

Must open stand, apart,

That all my daughters may be taught
To win the stranger's heart.

My wife and daughters will desire
Refreshment from perfumes,

Cosmetics for the skin require,
And artificial blooms.

The civet fragrance shall dispense,
And treasured sweets return;
Cologne revive the flagging sense,
And smoking amber burn.

And when at night my weary head
Begins to droop and dose,

A chamber south, to hold my bed,
For Nature's safe repose;

With blankets, counterpanes, and sheets,

Mattress, and sack of down,

And comfortables for my feet,
And pillows for my crown.

I want a warm and faithful friend,

To cheer the adverse hour,
Who ne'er to flatter will descend,

Nor bend the knee to power;

A friend to chide me when I'm wrong, My inmost soul to see;

And that my friendship prove as strong
For him, as his for me.

I want a kind and tender heart,
For others' wants to feel;

A soul secure from fortune's dart,
And bosom arm'd with steel;
To bear Divine chastisement's rod,
And, mingling in my plan,
Submission to the will of God,
With charity to Man.

I want a keen, observing eye,
And ever-listening ear;

The truth, through all disguise to spy,
And wisdom's voice to hear;

A tongue, to speak at virtue's need,
In heaven's sublimest strain ;

And lips, the cause of man to plead,
And never plead in vain.

I want uninterrupted health,
Throughout my long career;

And streams of never-failing wealth,
To scatter far and near ;-

The destitute to clothe and feed,
Free bounty to bestow;

Supply the helpless orphan's need,
And soothe the widow's woe.

I want the genius to conceive,
The talents to unfold;

Designs, the vicious to retrieve,
The virtuous to uphold;

Inventive power, combining skill,
A persevering soul,

Of human hearts to mould the will,
And reach from pole to pole.

I want the seals of power and place,
The ensigns of command,

Charged by the people's unbought grace,

To rule my native land;

Nor crown nor sceptre would I ask,

But from my country's will;

By day, by night, to ply the task
Her cup of bliss to fill.

I want the voice of honest praise
To follow me behind,

And to be thought, in future days,
The friend of human kind;
That after-ages, as they rise,
Exulting may proclaim,

In choral union to the skies,

Their blessings on my name.

These are the wants of mortal man;
I cannot need them long,

For life itself is but a span,
And earthly bliss a song.

My last great want, absorbing all,
Is, when beneath the sod,
And summoned to my final call-
The mercy of my God.

And oh while circles in my veins
Of life the purple stream,
And yet a fragment small remains
Of nature's transient dream,