Thou art too bountiful, I vow, Wife.. Nay, Sir, I hope you'll stay and dine, Preacher. Thou art fo kind, I needs muft fay, Wife. I must confefs we have not drefs'd 'Tis a Calf's Head, to tell you truth, Preacher. Bless me, the best and only Dish, Upon this Day, that I could wish. No Food befides could fo delight My Eyes, and eke my Appetite. Good pious Saints, that you should join Your Hearts fo mutually with mine. Well, give me now the other Glafs, I fee that you abound in Grace, The L-d of Mercy and of Pow'r Hath Bleffings for such Saints in store. I cannot bid ye now farewel, Thy Invitation must prevail.. Methinks Methinks from Heav'n I hear a Voice, That bids me tarry and rejoice. Husband. None can more truly welcome be; Preacher. 'Tis very true, we ought to praise The Lord upon these bleffed Days, And typify the Fall of him That caus'd the Land in Blood to fwim, So good a Dish, on fuch a Day! What Christian can refuse to stay. But tho' I tarry here to dine, Pray do not fend for any Wine. Hus Husband. A little, Sir,---Wife fend the Maid For two of Palm and two of Red: This Day we always drink, you know, To th Pious Hand that gave the Blow. Preacher. The Lord direct thee! Prithee do What thy own, Mind inclines thee to But I must crave thy leave to light One Pipe to whet my Appetite. When that is done we'll fhut the Door, And praise the L--d for half an Hour. TWO |