II
Sore sick he was and like to die,
No help his life could save;
His wife by him as sick did lie,
And both possest one grave.
No love between these two was lost,
Each was to other kind;
In love they lived, in love they died,
And left two babes behind:
III
The one a fine and pretty boy
Not passing three years old,
The other a girl more young than he,
And framed in beauty’s mould.
The father left his little son,
As plainly did appear,
When he to perfect age should come,
Three hundred pounds a year;
IV
And to his little daughter Jane
Five hundred pounds in gold,
To be paid down on marriage-day,
Which might not be controll’d.
But if the children chanced to die
Ere they to age should come,
Their uncle should possess their wealth;
For so the will did run.
V
‘Now, brother,’ said the dying man,
‘Look to my children dear;
Be good unto my boy and girl,
No friends else have they here:
To God and you I recommend
My children dear this day;
But little while be sure we have
Within this world to stay.
VI
‘You must be father and mother both,
And uncle, all in one;
God knows what will become of them
When I am dead and gone.’
With that bespake their mother dear:
‘O brother kind,’ quoth she,
‘You are the man must bring our babes
To wealth or misery!