Towards the evening’s leisure of delight.
God’s holy day comes round, they take in turn
To fill the pew, for which he pays the rent:
They’ve not yet had occasion for to mourn,
And so the intervals are cheerly spent.
He banks his cash day after day, perchance;
His sundry books are regularly pent;
He speculates at home, in Belgium, or in France,
For all goes well upon the Continent.
Speeds forth at morning in his usual health;