And gentle looks, assumed for Farmer Jones:
“Three girls,” the Widow cried, “a lively three
To govern well - indeed it cannot be.”
“Yes,” he replied, “it calls for pains and care:
But I must bear it.” - “Sir, you cannot bear;
Your son is weak, and asks a mother’s eye:”
“That, my kind friend, a father’s may supply.”
“Such growing griefs your very soul will tease;”
“To grieve another would not give me ease -
I have a mother,” - “She, poor ancient soul!