They have their sons who would their fortunes try,
But fear his daughters will their suit deny.
So runs the joke, while James, with sigh profound,
And face of care, looks moveless on the ground;
His cares, his sighs, provoke the insult more,
And point the jest—for Barnaby is poor.
Last in my list, five untaught lads appear;
Their father dead, compassion sent them here—
For still that rustic infidel denied
790