Yet did he from earth’s toils escape
I could most reconciled be
Could sweetly mourn e’en without crape
Could say without a pang of pain
That Simon’s loss was Betsey’s gain.
I’ve told the plain tale of my woes,
With no deceit or language vain,
Have told whereon my hopes are rose
Have sung my mournful song of pain.
And now e’en I will end my tale