My Soul does very much rejoyce
To see thee, and to hear thy Voice:
I blefs the Lord to find thee thus
Abound in Health as well as us,
And hope thou art difpos'd to stay
A while and comfort us this Day.
Preacher.
I think I fhall not stay to dine,
But the Lord's Will be done, not mine.
Where's thygoodWife ?Methinks I want
To fee her, fhe's a pious Saint;
In Wedlock thou art truly bleft,.
Of Women fhe's the very beft.
Pray let her know that I am here,
And tell her I defire to fee her.
The Lord preferve her! here she comes, Sh'as just been fweeping out herRooms, You must excufe her Huffiff's Drefs,
She's always doing, I profess.
I'm very happy, worthy Sir,
To fee fo great a Stranger here.
I hope good Madam Cant is well,
And pritty Mrs. Abigail.
Dear Sir, I wish I could have feen
Them here, how blefs'd fhould I have
Tho' I'm afham'd, I must confefs,
T'appear in fuch a homely Dress.
Thou'rt a good Woman, thou haft Grace
That beft adorns a beauteous Face;
I think thy Weeds become thee well,
Thou would'ft not dress like Jezabel.
To tell the truth, I've feldom feen
A Wife more lovely or more clean.
Give me thy Hand, thou fruitful Bride;
The Lord at all times be thy Guide:
How do thy little Comforts fare,
Thofe tender Twigs,their Parents Care?
Pray call 'em hither, let me bless
Those pritty hopeful Babes of Grace.
Wife.
Here, Aram, come, my little Saint,
Where's your low Bow to Mr. Cant?
Daughter! Where art? Come hither Ruth'
Fie, pull your Fingers from your Mouth.
Look up, my Dear, hold up your Head.
Where's your fine Curtefy? There's my
(Maid.
Lord fanctify these Lambs, and grant
That they thy Graces may never want:
Shew 'em thy way, that they may be
A Comfort to thy Spouse and thee;
The Lord fufficiently hath fhew'd
His Love to both in fuch a Brood.
May they ftill greater Bleffings grow
To thee that brought 'em forth in woe,
And as their Years encrease, inherit
A double portion of the Spirit.
Thanks to you, rev'rend Sir,may Heaven
Reward the Bleffing you have given.
Rebecca, take my Closet Key
And fetch that Bottle unto me
=Thy Mafter brought me home last Night
For Palm, and faid he knew'twas right;
And with the Bottle pray bring in
A Glass. Take care you wash it clean.
Preacher.
I hope thou doft not think that I
Drink Wine, except I'm fick or dry;
I ne'er take any thing that's ftrong,
One Glass I fear will do me wrong.
E'en let it reft upon the Shelf,
Thou'dft better keep it for thy felf.
Wife.
Good Sir, vouchsafe, at my request,
To drink this Glass, 'tis but a taste,
It holds but half a Pint at most,
Will you be pleas'd to have a Toast ?
Preacher
No, by no means, if I muft take
So large a Dofe, 'tis for thy fake.
Good Lord give thou a Bleffing to it,
That when it's down I may not rue it.
Well, 'tis exceeding good indeed,
I wish it mayn't offend my Head.
May'st thee, at all times, for thy ease,
Abound in Comforts, fuch as thefe,
Tis a prime Cordial, I proteft,
This ought not to be drank in waste.
Husband.
Alas, one Glafs, Sir, will not warm ye,
I'm fure a fecond cannot harm ye;
Cold Weather does ftrong Wine require,
Fill out, my Dear, ------ A little higher,
Pray give the Glafs to Mr. Cant,
So long a Walk may make him faint."
Thou best of all good Women! hold!
Thy Hand, confider I am old.
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