The Phenix

For the Phenix,

Friend Bayley.--The following lines, said to have been composed by Dr. Franklin, will interest I doubt not many of your readers. The argument herein presented in favor of connubial happiness is irresistible and conclusive! May not the insertion in your paper tend to wake up an interest on the subject. What can an old bachelor expect in return for the sacrifice he makes; what can bear the least comparison to a friendship with such as is here described! But listen--

"Of your Chloes and Phyllises, poets may prate,
I sing of my plain country Joan,
Now twelve years my wife, sweetest joy of my life;
Bless'd day that I made her my own.

Not a word of her shape, of her face or her eyes,
Or of loves or of darts shall you hear;
Though beauty I admire, 'tis virtue I praise,
For it adorns yet in seventy year.

In health a companion delightful and true,
Most easy, engaging and free,
In sickness no less than the tenderest nurse,
She's as tender as tender can be.

She defends my good name, even when I'm to blame,
Friend firmer to man ne'er was given,
Her compassionate heart feels for all the distress'd,
And she draws down new blessings from heaven.

Should the fairest young princess with millions in purse
Be held in exchange for my Joan,
She could not be a better she might be a worse,
So I'll ever be content with my own."

P. S. Some one at my elbow whispers, "can't find such in modern days!" But let the ladies read this, and my word for it, if we don't find them imitating such an example.

AUNT DOROTHY