Classic Poem

This on my mind is always
With a sure clear appeal,
And it is long since I desired
We'd act just as we feel.
And since it is now distressing
Myself quite to subdue,
I'll be in the end confessing
All my regard for you.

Chorus

Then let's give up the roving,
'Twere better than the road
Being mated with that maiden,
So gentle, without cloud.

Of all the wealthiest I see,
Their riches are their rage;
But that had never captured me,
Though I'd grown grey with age.
Although my bent were avarice,
Its promptings would not move;
Its firm knot me would ne'er entice
Were I not caught with love.

Were I of wealth the example,
Though that you may think strange,
Possessed of rights the most ample
In all great Britain's range,
The clear fame of that dignity
Would ne'er me a step entice;
For thousands I would not bend me,
Except where lay my choice.

Each man who has this persuasion
Will quite command my praise,
Were no sort of vacillation
Discovered in his ways.
'BouThis view when search I'm making,
Should I esteem it right,
I'd commend his not forsaking
Long as he saw the light.

I would love a maiden charming,
Straightforward, mild and bonnie;
Her face and form her adorning,
And not her kine or money.
But should she have the source of these
And character conformed,
I'd deem her none the worse of these,
With " wisdom's root " adorned.

I would not quit that attitude
Whatever others say,
By change with too much promptitude,
My conscience saying nay.
Let each one be as pleases him,
No teasing him from me,
If following with all his force
The best course he can see.