E T R G h E O F（3 / 3）

private life to fd

pity the best of words should be but d!

, to heaven&039;s gates the rk&039;s shrill ng ascends,

but grovellg on the earth the carol ends

all the c&039;ro cry of starvg want,

they dun benevolence with shaless front;

obli the, patronise their tsel ys—

they persecute you all your future days!

ere y poor ul such deep danation sta,

y horny fist assu the plough aga,

the pie-bald jacket let patch once ore,

on eighteenpence a week i&039;ve liv&039;d before

tho&039;, thanks to heaven, i dare even that st shift,

i trt, anti, y boon is thy gift:

that, pc&039;d by thee upon the wish&039;d-for height,

where, an and nature fairer her sight,

y e ay ip her g for sublir flight