Time will right;

A man's ill-fortune passes like the night.

Times are already mending at their worst;

Think of Spent Simmy when his roof-beam burst.

[Pg 29]

[Pg 29]

 Well, men are men. But what I cannot bear Is my poor Bet, my piebald Talking Mare, Gone curby in her hocks from standing up. That's the last drop that overfills the cup. My Bet's been like a Christian friend for years. 

 Well, men are men. But what I cannot bear Is my poor Bet, my piebald Talking Mare, Gone curby in her hocks from standing up. That's the last drop that overfills the cup. My Bet's been like a Christian friend for years. 

[Pg 30]

[Pg 30]

[Pg 31]

[Pg 31]

His ruined roof fell on him in a rain

Of hidden gold that built it up again.

So, courage, and believe God's providence.

Lo, here, the city shining like new pence,

To welcome you; the Prince is lodging there.

Lo, you, the banners flying like a fair.

Your circus will be crowded twenty deep.

This city is a field for you to reap,

 Prev. P 13/38 next