Happy Hezekiah.
Old Jeremiah you have heard so oft relate his troubles,
He told that married life was nothing but a bubble.
Now to confute this calumny, it is my heart’s desire,
So list you while I sing the luck of happy Hezekiah.
My wife she was no milliner, or any other trade, sir.
But was what I ne’er blush to own, a charming servant-maid, sir.
I courted her, ’twas in a house, where she used to build the fires,
And I’ve ne’er had cause to curse the day she first was Hezekiah’s.
I ne’er have cause for jealousy, I
never take home codgers,
And what is more, I ne’er take in any single young men lodgers.
I always do go home to tea, then draw up to the fire,
My wife she reads, or mends the coat of happy Hezekiah.
My wife and I we ne’er fall out, we love each other dearly,
And of affections ’tis a fact, a pledge is sent us yearly.
And what adds more unto the joy, which a parent should inspire,
The children are the image of their father, Hezekiah.
We four dear children now have got, and do expect another,
The boys myself I do bring up, the girls I leave to their mother.
Thus with the children and my wife, my own, my loved Sophia,
So pleasantly doth pass the life of happy Hezekiah.