Classic Poem

O best belov'd! could I but gain
The one dear boon that I implore;
I'd cease of Fortune to complain,
Nor would I ask kind Heaven for more.

I wish not realms my sway to own,
To bend and tremble at my frown;
For Care, too oft, lurks near the throne,
And lines with thorns the dazzling crown.

Let Empire break Ambition's rest;
Be far its troublous pomp from me;
I should, dear maid, be truly blest,
Were mine a tranquil cot and thee.

No splendid robes, no gems of pride,
No boundless wealth can I impart;
These-toys to me has Fate denied;
But I can give a faithful heart.

Sweet maid! indeed, I would not grieve
Though I the live-long day should toil,
Might I at setting sun, receive
From thee, one tender, cheering smile.

And canst thou bid me then despair?
Ah no! to winds I fear consign:
If love and truth be worth thy care,
I sure shall one day call thee mine!