"A spinning-wheel,
One peck of meal,
A knife without a handle,
A rusty lamp,
Two quarts of samp,
And half a tallow candle.
"My pouch and pipes,
Two oxen tripes,
An oaken dish well carved,
My little dog,
And spotted hog,
With two young pigs just starved.
"This is my store,
I have no more,
I heartily do give it:
My years are spun,
My days are done,
And so I think to leave it.
"Thus Father Abbey left his spouse,
As rich as church or college mouse,
Which is sufficient invitation
To serve the college in his station."
Newhaven, January 2, 1731.
"Our sweeper having lately buried his spouse, and accidentally hearing of the death and will of his deceased Cambridge brother, has conceived a violent passion for the relict. As love softens the mind and disposes to poetry, he has eased himself in the following strains, which he transmits to the charming widow, as the first essay of his love and courtship.
"MISTRESS Abbey
To you I fly,
You only can relieve me;
To you I turn,
For you I burn,
If you will but believe me.
"Then, gentle dame,
Admit my flame,
And grant me my petition;
If you deny,
Alas! I die
In pitiful condition.
"Before the news
Of your dear spouse
Had reached us at New Haven,
My dear wife dy'd,
Who was my bride
In anno eighty-seven.
"Thus[78] being free,
Let's both agree
To join our hands, for I do
Boldly aver
A widower
Is fittest for a widow.
"You may be sure
'T is not your dower
I make this flowing verse on;
In these smooth lays
I only praise
The glories[79] of your person.