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My Father was a good and pious man,
An honest man by honest parents bred;
And I believe, that, soon as I began


To lisp, he made me kneel beside my
And in his hearing there my prayers I said:
And afterwards, by my good Father taught,
I read, and loved the books in which I read;
For books in every neighbouring house I sought,
And nothing to my mind a sweeter pleasure brought.

The suns of twenty summers danced along,—

Ah! little marked how fast they rolled

Then rose a stately Hall our woods among,
And cottage after cottage owned its sway.
No joy to see a neighbouring House, or stray
Through pastures not his own, the master took;
My Father dared his greedy wish gainsay ;
He loved his old hereditary nook,

And ill could I the thought of such sad parting brook.

But, when he had refused the proffered gold,

To cruel injuries he became a prey,

Sore traversed in whate'er he bought and sold:
His troubles grew upon him day by day,
And all his substance fell into decay.

They dealt most hardly with him, and he tried
To move their hearts-but it was vain-for they
Seized all he had; and, weeping side by side,

We sought a home where we uninjured might abide.

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