That food was dear, the winter cold,
That work was scarce, and times were hard,
And very ill at home they fared,—
And, more than this, a bounteous Heaven
To them a little babe had given,
Whose brief existence could attest
This world's a wintry world at best.
A silver crown, whose shining face
King William's head and Mary's grace,
Dropped in his hand. The Governor spoke,—