My wife is gloomy, down-hearted and sad,
She fears my troubles will make me go mad,
Poor soul, she don’t know how heavy the weight
That hangs on my heart and threatens my fate.
Still I’m determined to do what I can,
And cherish the fate of the honest man.
Debts overwhelm me and creditors call,
No more can I pay, they already have all.
The sheriff may come to bleed me afresh,
And take by the law one pound of my flesh;
But now, nor never, will I change my plan,
For I cherish the fate of the honest man.
In liquid poisons I do not indulge,
Nor by vile language my weakness divulge:
From labor and right I never do quail,
And still my efforts continue to fail,
Yet I keep trying to do what I can
To merit the fate of the honest man.
O, God of the poor, extend thy good word,
And grant the honest a better reward,
Save them from Shylocks, temptation and pain,
Make troubles on earth in heaven their gain,
O, give me the strength to live by my plan,
And die the proud death of the honest man.
TIME AND TIDE.
Composed while dreaming about time and tide.
“Come, Time,” says Tide, “along with me,
For we must go together,
And join our forces at the sea,
Nor wait for wind or weather.”