Thro' the poor Widow's long lonely years,

    Her Father supported us all:

  Yet sure she was loaded with cares,

    Being left with six Children so small.

  Meagre Want never lifted her latch;

    Her cottage was still tight and clean;

  And the casement beneath it's low thatch

    Commanded a view o'er the Green.

                   13

  O'er the Green, where so often she blest

    The return of a Husband or Son,

  Coming happily home to their rest,

    At night, when their labour, was done:

  Where so oft in her earlier years,

    She, with transport maternal, has seen

  (While plying her housewifely cares)

    Her Children all safe on the Green.

                   14

  The Green was our pride through the year,

    For in Spring, when the wild flow'rets blew,

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