And sure to see one’s loves and friends
For legs and arms would make amends.”
“Perhaps,” says Dobson, “so it might,
But latterly I’ve lost my sight.”
“This is a shocking story, faith,
Yet there’s some comfort still,” says Death;
“Each strives your sadness to amuse,
I warrant you hear all the news.”
“There’s none,” cries he, “and if there were
I’m grown so deaf I could not hear.”