The Tryal of Patience:
Being a Relation of a Widdow in York-shire, who having Buried her
Husband, and left Seven small Children, was reduc'd to great Poverty, and turn'd out
of House and Home; then going to her Husbands Brother, being a Rich Man, in hopes
of finding Relief, but instead thereof, he threatned them with Cruelty. With an Ac-
count of a Ladies Love at the greatest time of her Distress.
Tune of, In Summer time.
This may be Printed, R. P.
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A Loving Couple in York-shire,
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they having seven Children small,
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When Poverty was so severe,
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they had for them no Food at all.
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As I the naked truth may speak,
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their Father was in grief and woe,
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Three years he lay both sick and weak,
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this was enough to bring them low.
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They sold their Cattel, Corn, and Hay,
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with other [Goo]ds they parted free,
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Till all they had was made away,
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in this their sad Extreamity.
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After the term of three long years,
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which he thus languishing did lye,
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Upon his Bed with brinish Tears.
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he said farewel, here now I dye.
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A cruel Landlord the next day,
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turn'd her and Children out of door,
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Where in a Field all night they lay,
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this griev'd the Widdows heart full sore.
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Poor Soul, she was in sad distress,
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full seven Children at her feet,
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With hunger, cold, and comfortless,
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and not one bit of Bread to eat.
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HEr Children cry'd to her alone,
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O give us Food Mother, they said,
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It would have broke a heart of Stone,
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to hear the piteous moan they made.
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With weeping tears she did reply,
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my heart is over-whelm'd with Grief,
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To your Rich Uncle we will hye,
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and see if he will yield Relief.
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He told your Father thus in love,
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before this world he bid adieu,
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That he in tenderness would prove
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a Brother and a Father too.
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With chearfulness they did repair
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unto their Uncles House that night,
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And they no sooner was come there;
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but all their hopes was blasted quite.
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As soon as he did them behold,
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he said to her, what make you here,
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Be gone or else the Whipping-post,
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shall surely happen to your share.
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He threatned her with this abuse,
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likewise with greater Villany,
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He vow'd his Dog [h]e would let loose,
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if that she did his patience try.
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In wrath he spurn'd them from his door,
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saying, they should not there abide,
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Her Children they were frightned sore,
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she likewise wrung her hands and cry'd,
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O here we will not tarry long,
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although we are in deep Distress,
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Dear Brother, pray now do not wrung
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the Widdow and the Fatherless.
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Tears from their eyes in showers did flow,
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for there they see they might not stay,
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Their hearts were fill'd with grief and woe,
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as from his House they took their way.
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The Mother was with grief opprest,
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the Children in a woful plight,
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We have no home nor place of rest,
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where shall we lay our heads this night?
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As she did wander on the way,
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alas! her very heart did bleed,
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Good Lord raise me some Friend I pray
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to help us in this time of need.
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Her Prayers was heard to Heaven high
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for she no sooner this had said,
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But a young Lady Riding by,
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did hear the piteous moan she made.
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And call'd her to her Coach with speed,
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giving her ten good Guinnies there,
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In order for her present need,
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and bid her to her House repair.
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A Farm of Twenty pound a year,
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I do declare I have in store,
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And I will give thee Title clear,
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to you and yours for evermore.
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The Lady bid her cease to mourn,
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for ever happy may you be,
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Ten thousand thanks she did return,
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for this her Generosity.
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No Tongue is able to express
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how joy and comforts did increase,
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For now the Farm they do possess,
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and live in plenty, joy, and peace.
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This Brother of malicious spight,
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who would not pitty her poor case,
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All that he had was blasted quite,
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within a very little space
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Gods wrath and vengeance [here we see,]
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was just for his sad cruel Pride,
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He was reduc'd to Poverty,
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likewise upon a Dunghil Dy'd.
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For having then no Home nor Friend,
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that would this cruel wretch receive
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He made a miserable end,
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when he alas! this Life did leave.
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Rich Men relieve the Poor I pray,
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who does to you for succour cry,
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Lest you be brought as low as they,
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by making God your Enemy.
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