The WEAVERs Garland;
Or, A new School for Christian Patience.
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SWeet, dear, and Loving Wife
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My Senses are at Strife,
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About this careful Life,
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For we decline;
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Times being grievious hard,
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All trading spoild and marrd,
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I have a sweet regard
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For thee and thine.
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I thank you for your C[ar]e,
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Yet Husband dont despair,
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Let us with Patience bear
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These Troubles here.
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Dear Love, tis all in vain,
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To weep, sigh, and complain,
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Love, we may thrive again,
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Be of good cheer.
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My dearest Love, said he,
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How can I chearful be?
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While pinching Poverty
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Knocks at the Door,
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And will not hence Depart,
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But wounds me to the Heart,
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I never felt such Smart,
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Sweet Wife, before.
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Dear Husband do not make
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Such Moan for Heavens sake,
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Of me this Councel take,
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Your Bosom-Friend:
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By Patience put your Trust,
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In him that made you first,
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When Times are at the worst,
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Sure they will mend.
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Dear Love, it may be so,
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But while the G[ra]ss doth grow
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The Steed may starve you know,
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Then tis too Late.
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So my dear Family,
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Which wants a quick supply,
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By long Delays may die,
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O cruel Fate.
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Sweet Husband dont Despair,
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Avoid distracting Care,
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I will the Burden bear
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Along with you.
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Our Sons and Daughters they
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Shall Work, and if we may,
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Get Bread from Day to Day,
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Love that will do.
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At a sad dismal Rate,
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Sweet Wife thou knowst of late,
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My Losses have been great,
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By wicked Men.
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Pine not for worldly Pelf,
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Bless God we have our Health,
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And that is more than Wealth,
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Be thankful then.
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Job lost Abundance more,
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Besides his Body sore;
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Yet he with Patience bore,
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While Tidings came,
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How all the Ruins lay,
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He patiently did say
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God gives and takes away,
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Blest be his Name.
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Job did not fume and fret,
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When with these Things he met
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Dear loving Husband, let
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Us imitate
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His Patience when in Pain,
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Job found it not in vain,
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God raisd him up again,
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And made him Great.
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Love I have often read
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How Job was comforted,
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Yet I am full of Dread
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And Fear, for why
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Our Family is large,
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Six Children are some Charge,
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We fall within the Verge
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Of Poverty.
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Dear husband, dont repine,
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Nor grudge this Charge of thine.
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Blest be the Powers divine,
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Sweet Babes they are.
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When we shall aged grow,
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With Locks like Winter Snow,
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They may for ought I know,
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Lesson our Care.
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It is a great Offence,
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To distrust Providence,
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Whose blessed Influence
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Takes special Care
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Of all the Sons of Men,
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Husband be chearful then
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God will be gracious when
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Thankful we are.
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My Fingers do not itch
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To be exceeding rich,
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May we but go thro stitch,
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Keep from the Door
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The greedy Wolf of Prey,
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And all our Dealers pay,
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Believe me what I say,
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We need no more.
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I and my Children dear
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Will Work, then never fear,
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But we shall something clear,
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Tommy shall weave:
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The Girls shall all begin
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Forthwith to card and spin,
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Which will bring something in,
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Then never grieve.
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These Hands that never wrought
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Shall be to Labor brought,
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All which I never thought
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Woud be till now.
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But in regard I see
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It is my Destiny,
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Ill draw along with thee,
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GOD speed the PLOUGH.
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[I] value not to dine
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On sumptuous Dishes fine,
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With rich and racy Wine,
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From foreign Parts.
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Good wholesome Bread & Beer,
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Instead of better cheer,
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Let us receive my Dear,
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With thankful hearts.
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In all Conditions still,
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Let us not take it ill,
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Since tis his blessed Will,
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It should be so:
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Whether we rise or fall,
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Our Substance great or small,
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Content is all in all,
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My Dear you know.
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O most indulgent Mate,
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After this long Debate,
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My Comforts they are great
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In a kind Wife.
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Tho some may think it strange
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My Fancy seems to range,
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But now a happy Change,
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Doth bless my Life.
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For to my Joy I find
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A sweet composed Mind,
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I wish that all Mankind,
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Was full as well.
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Despairs a dreadful Thing,
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And does poor Mortals bring
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Unto the bitter sting
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Of Death and Hell.
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Sweet Wife and hearts delight,
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I had been ruind quite,
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In Deaths eternal Night,
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Hadst thou not been
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The happy Instrument,
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That Ruin to prevent,
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Love, Joy, and sweet Content,
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I now am in.
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Tho slender is my Store,
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Yet Ill despair no more,
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That Man is truly poor
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That wants Content.
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But where Contents increasd,
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Tis a continual Feast,
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Praise God I am releassd,
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Death to prevent.
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As God gives me Grace,
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This Council Ill embrace,
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Despair shall take place
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In me henceforth.
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Farewel litigious Strife,
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And come my chearful Wife,
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Thy words have savd my Life,
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God bless us both.
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And all Mankind likewise,
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From the Calamities,
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Which do as Fogs arise,
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From foul Despair.
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Let doubtful Christians fly
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In their Extremity
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To God who sits on high,
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By fervent Prayer.
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He is Mans Friend in chief,
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The Fountain of Relief,
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When I was lost in Grief,
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And at the worst.
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My dear indulgent Bride,
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Her Council was my Guide,
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In God Im satisfyd,
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In whom I trust.
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My Children, Wife, and I,
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We will ourselves apply
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To true Industry,
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And leave the rest
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To Providence divine,
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Henceforth Ill not repine,
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I hope that me and mine,
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Shall still be blest.
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Thus by the good Wives Care,
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The Husband in Despair
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Was brought at length to bear,
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His Sorrows rife.
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The bitter Cup of Grief,
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Her Words did yield Relief,
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She was his Friend in chief,
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And faithful Wife.
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Good Men and Women pray
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That hear me now this Day,
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Labor without delay,
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To live in Love.
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Assist each other still,
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In Fortune Good or Ill,
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Then youll have a Blessing still
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Come from above.
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