Treasure Chest

Treasure Chest

Monday, July 16, 2012

Poem by John Quincy Adams — The Wants of Man


“Man wants but little here below,
Nor wants that little long.”
‘Tis not with me exactly so;
But ‘tis so in the song.
My wants are many and, if told,
Would muster many a score;
And were each wish a mint of gold,
I still should long for more.

I want (who does not want?) A wife ---
Affectionate and fair;
To solace all the woes of life,
And all its joy to share.
Of temper sweet, of yielding will,
Of firm, yet placid mind, ---
With all my faults to love me still
With sentiment refined.

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 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 scepter would I ask
But from my country’s will,
By day, by night, to ply the task
Her cup of bliss to fill.

These are the Wants of mortal Man, ---
I cannot want 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.

No comments:

Post a Comment