Page:Unfortunate son, or, A kind wife is worth gold.pdf/6

 :his clothes incontinent. Why now, ſaid he, I am undone,
 * alas! who can aſſure me.

My dad won’t own me for his ſon,
 * nor eke my wife endure me

For I have ſlain my horſes brave,
 * and loſt my hatchet too,

My cloaths are taken by a knave,
 * alas! what muſt I do?

Stark naked am I, and forlorn,
 * in ſome clofe place I’ll hide me,

Woe to the time when I was born,
 * alas! that can betide me?

Into a hollow tree he creeps,
 * and quaking there he ſtands,

And ſigns, and mournfully he weeps,
 * and often wrings his hands.

But cold and hunger brought him forth,
 * he wiſhed at home he were,

Thoſe wiſhes were but of little worth,
 * ſince he durſt not come there.

But night at length came on apace,
 * thus be reſolv’d to do

Altho’ he durſt not ſhew his face,
 * yet homeward he would go.

When he came home the doors faſt be,
 * yet there he made a ſtay,

And at the windows liſtens he,
 * to hear what they did ſay.

There did he hear his wife lament,
 * his father-in-law complain,