The needles stitched, and the spindle twirled,

And the knitted garment grew.

So young, and one of them yet a child,

With never an earthly friend;

They prayed each day for the daily bread

Which they knew the Lord would send.

And toiling cheerfully, lived content,

Nor ever of want complained,

But freely shared with the needy poor

The little their labour gained.

But evil days to the sisters came,

And their faith was sorely tried:

A merchant, one of the first in town,

That winter had failed and died.

And many debts had he left behind,

And their work was all unpaid;

For he it was who had bought and sold

The delicate wares they made.

They prayed for help, and they sought for work;

But awhile they sought in vain.

 Prev. P 61/198 next