1830-40.] THOMAS H. SHREVE. 177 I HAVE NO WIFE. I HAVE no wife — and I can go Just where I please, and feel as free As crazy winds which choose to blow Round mountain-tops their melody. On those who have Love's race to run, Hope, like a seraph, smiles most sweet — But they who Hymen's goal have won, Sometimes, 'tis said, find Hope a cheat I have no wife — young girls are fair — But how it is, I cannot tell. No sooner are they wed, than their Enchantments give them the farewell. The girls, oh, bless them ! make us yearn To risk all odds and take a wife — To cling to one, and not to turn Ten thousand in the dance of life. I have no wife : — "Yho'd have his nose Forever tied to one lone flower. E'en if that flower should be a rose. Plucked with light hand from fairy bower ? Oh ! better far the bright bouquet Of flowers of every hue and clime ; By turns to charm the sense away, And fill the heart with dreams sublime, 1 have no wife : — I now can change From grave to joy, from light to sad Unfettered, in my freedom range And fret awhile, and, then, be glad. I now can heed a Siren's tongue, And feel that eyes glance not in vain — Make love apace, and, being flung, Get up and try my luck again. I have no wife to pull my hair If it should chance entangled be — I'm like the lion in his lair, Who flings his mane about him free. If 'tis my fancy, I can wear My boots unblessed by blacking paste, Cling to my coat till it's threadbare, Without a lecture on bad taste. I have no wife, and I can dream Of girls who're worth their weight in gold; Can bask my heart in Love's broad beam, And dance to think it's yet unsold. Or I can look ui)on a brow Which mind and beauty both enhance, Go to the shrine, and make my bow, And thank the Fates I have a chance. I have no wife, and, like a wave, Can float away to any land. Curl up and kiss, or gently lave The sweetest flowers that are at hand. A Pilgrim, I can bend before The shrine^, which heart and mind approve ; — Or, Persian like, I can adore Each star that gems the heaven of love. I have no wife — in heaven, they say, Such things as weddings are not known — Unyoked the blissful spirits stray O'er fields where care no shade thrown. Then why not have a heaven below, And let fair Hymen hence be sent ? It would be fine — but as things go, TJnwedded, folks won't he content! has MY FIRST GRAY HAIR. Old Age's twilight dawn hath come, Its first gray streak is here ! Gray hair! thou'rt eloquent though dumb, And art, although forever mum, Pathetic as a tear. Thou art a solemn joke ! In sooth Enough to make one pout ! Thou art not welcome — and in truth. Thy hue does not become my youth — Therefore I'll pull thee out. 12
