And she did die—believing just
—This privilege was purchased! Dead
In comfort through her foolish trust!
'Stiff-necked ones,' well Esaias said!
"So, Sabbath morning, out of gate
And on to way, what sees our arch
Good Farmer? Why, they hoist their freight—
The corpse—on shoulder, and so, march!
'Now for it, Buti!' In the nick
Of time 't is pully-hauly, hence