Page:Pocock's Everlasting Songster.djvu/61

 Could I trace back the time, a much earlier date,

Since my forefathers toil'd in yon field;

For the farm I now hold on your honour's estate,

Is the fame that my grandfather till'd.

He, dying, bequeath'd to his son a good name,

which unfully'd descended to me;

For my child I've preserv'd it, uncrimson'd with

shame,

And it still from a spot shall be free.



