Sends nature forth the daughter of the skies, To dance on earth, and charm all human eyes; Or lay the landscape on the snowy sheet, Employs, shut out from more important views, THE YEARLY DISTRESS; OR TITHING TIME AT STOCK IN ESSEX. Verses addressed to a Country Clergyman complaining of the Disagreeableness of the Day annually appointed for receiving the Dues at the Parsonage. COME, ponder well, for 'tis no jest, This priest he merry is and blithe But oh! it cuts him like a sithe, He then is full of fright and fears, And long before the day appears He heaves up many a sigh. For then the farmers come jog, jog, Along the miry road, Each heart as heavy as a log, To make their payments good. In sooth, the sorrow of such days When he that takes and he that pays Are both alike distressed. Now all, unwelcome, at his gates The clumsy swains alight, With rueful faces and bald pates He trembles at the sight. And well he may, for well he knows Each bumpkin of the clan, Instead of paying what he owes, Will cheat him if he can. So in they come each makes his leg, And flings his head before, And looks as if he came to beg, And not to quit a score. "And how does miss and madam do, The little boy and all?' All tight and well. And how do you, "Good Mr. What-d'ye-call?' The dinner comes, and down they sit: One wipes his nose upon his sleeve, One spits upon the floor, Yet, not to give offence or grieve, Holds up the cloth before. The punch goes round, and they are dull And lumpish still as ever; Like barrels with their bellies full, They only weigh the heavier.. At length the busy time begins, 'Come, neighbours, we must wag-' The money chinks, down drop their chins, Each lugging out his bag. One talks of mildew and of frost, And one of storms of hail, And one of pigs, that he has lost Quoth one, A rarer man than you In pulpit none shall hear: But yet, methinks, to tell you true, You sell it plaguy dear.' Oh, why are farmers made so coarse, A kick, that scarce would move a horse, Then let the boobies stay at home; 'Twould cost him, I dare say, Less trouble taking twice the sum, Without the clowns that pay. |