XXX
But when again she stammered in this bewildering way,
The farmer no longer could bear it, and begged her to go, or to stay,
But not to be whimpering nonsense at such a time. Pricked by a goad,
’Twas you who sent him to glory:—you’ve come here to reap what you sowed.
Is that it?’ he asked; and the silence the elders preserved plainly said,
On Mary’s heaving bosom this begging-petition was read.