“No! crusts and water in a corner stood: -
To have this plenty, and to wait so long,
And to be right too late, is doubly wrong:
Then, every day to see him totter by,
And to forbear - Oh! what a heart had I!”
“Blame me not, child; I tremble at the news.”
“Tis my own heart,” said Susan, “I accuse:
To have this money in my purse - to know
What grief was his, and what to grief we owe;
To see him often, always to conceive