Page:FirstSeriesOfHymns.djvu/114

Rh O lady! my mother is aged and poor, And scarcely can walk to her own cottage-door; My father is dead, and no other has she To help and to tend her but poor little me. No! while mother lives, by her side will I stay, To watch her by night, and to cheer her by day; But when mother dies, and in her grave is laid, Oh, send for me then, for your own little maid.

 

people all, of every sort, Give ear unto my song; And if you find it wondrous short, It cannot hold you long.

In Islington there was a man, Of whom the world might say, That still a godly race he ran Whene'er he went to pray.

A kind and gentle heart he had To comfort friends and foes; The naked every day he clad When he put on his clothes.

And in that town a dog was found, As many dogs there be, Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound, And curs of low degree. 