Uprose the Reverend Dr. Brown,
Uprose the doctor's "winsome marrow;"
The lady laid her knitting down,
Her husband clasp'd his pond'rous Barrow:
What'er the stranger's cast or creed,
Pundit or Papist, saint or sinner,
He found a stable for his steed,
And welcome for himself, and dinner.
If, when he reach'd his journey's end,