Dolley Madison’s and Louisa Adams’s Poems Inspired by “The Wants of Man”

In Poems by Presidents, John Quincy Adams is the star poet and “The Wants of Man” is his magnum opus. In Poems by First Ladies, the first two First Ladies featured both have poems inspired by “The Wants of Man.”

Dolley Madison penned “Lines Addressed to President Adams, on Reading His Beautiful Poem on the Wants of Man” to celebrate the wisdom and beauty of “The Wants of Man”:

Your wants, dear Sir, will seem but small,

When they’re compared with mine;

My single want outweighs them all—

I want a soul like thine.

For all the wants that you may find,

And yet ten thousand more,

Can never satisfy a mind

So filled with Wisdom’s store.

Louisa Adams, the star poet of Poems by First Ladies, wrote “My Wants,” which is reminiscent of her husband’s “The Wants of Man.” It’s one of numerous poems where she discusses her faith. The couplet “I want the talent to indite/Poetic strains divine” would work well as a motto.

I want a spirit pure and good

With zeal to persevere

Religious truths well understood

Its Gospel to revere

While to my God in prayer I bow

His gracious help to seek

That He His mercy will bestow

His praise my tongue to speak

 

I want the talent to indite

Poetic strains divine

To sing to words of living light

The works that round me shine

The attributes of Earth and sky

The wondrous ocean’s powers

The race that thro’ fair ether fly

And all Earth’s beauteous flowers

 

I want the attic salt of wit

Its playful brilliant light

With corruscation flash to flit

Like meteors of the night:

I want the youthful energy

That sublimates the soul

Of wisdom the firm strategy

That teaches self controul

 

I want the dignity of pride

That high exalts the mind

The right unwearied to abide

Of honour pure refined—

All cultivation ere design’d

That rising upward springs

Imagination’s taste refined

That floats on angels’ wings

 

I want the courage to pursue

The truths I seek to learn,

To cherish all of good and true,

With mercy vice to spurn—

That calm that meekly dwells with age

That peace the world denies

The patient spirit of the sage

The experience of the wise

 

I want a heart for others’ woes

A purse for their relief:

The tear with pity that o’erflows

To soothe the pangs of grief—

To taste the joys of sweet repose

Bless’d by domestic love:

With faith, in death my eyes to close

In mercy from above