JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. ADAMS, JOHN QUINCY, an American statesman and publicist; sixth President of the United States; born at Braintree, Mass., July, 11, 1767; died in Washington, D. C., February 21, 1848. Before he reached the Presidency he had served as his country's representative in England, France, Prussia, and Holland; in his youth, too, he had accompanied his father, John Adams, when he was American Minister at London. He was a frequent contributor to the press, of articles on political topics. He translated Wieland's "Oberon" into English (1797); published "Letters on Silesia," (1803). The "Diary of J. Q. Adams," with his "Memoirs," in 12 vols., was published in 1874-77, edited by his son. THE WANTS OF MAN. "MAN wants but little here below, Nor wants that little long." "T is not with ME exactly so, My wants are many, and if told What first I want is daily bread, And canvasbacks, and wine, And all the realms of nature spread Before me when I dine. Four courses scarcely can provide My appetite to quell, With four choice cooks from France beside To dress my dinner well. What next I want, at heavy cost, Is elegant attire, Black sable furs for winter's frost, And silks for summer's fire, And Cashmere shawls, and Brussels lace My bosom's front to deck, And diamond rings my hands to grace, And rubies for my neck. And then I want a mansion fair, With halls for banquets and for balls, I want a garden and a park My dwelling to surround, A thousand acres (bless the mark!), Where flocks may range and herds may low, And kids and lambkins play, And flowers and fruits commingled grow, I want, when summer's foliage falls, For comfort and for ease. But, here as space is somewhat scant And acres rather rare, My house in town I only want I want a steward, butler, cooks, Ay! and to stamp my form and face I want, their lineaments to trace, By Greenough's hand display I want a cabinet profuse And plants and minerals and shells, And every beast on earth that dwells In solitude or herds. I want a board of burnished plate, Tureens of twenty pounds in weight, And maples of fair glossy stain And damask curtains must protect And mirrors of the largest pane I want (who does not want ?) a wife, To solace all the woes of life, Of temper sweet, of yielding will, With all my faults to love me still, And as Time's car incessant runs And when my bosom's darling sings A pedal harp of many strings Must with her voice combine. That all my daughters may be taught My wife and daughters will desire The civet fragrance shall dispense And when, at night, my weary head A southern chamber holds my bed And comfortables for my feet, I want a warm and faithful friend 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. |