The Chearful Husband:
Or, The Despairing Wife.
In a Dialogue between a loving Couple, about the Cares
and Crosses of these troublesome Times.
To the Tune of, The Jealous Lover.
|
Woman.
|
SWeet kind and loving Husband dear,
|
We shall be ruind now, I fear;
|
Such Times before, I never knew
|
Since I was born, what shall we do?
|
Our Charge is great and Profit small,
|
And Charity grows cold withal;
|
This fills my Heart with grief and care,
|
I nothing see but sad despair.
|
Man.
|
Chear up, my kind and loving Wife,
|
The joy and comfort of my Life,
|
And do not in the least complain,
|
I hope to see good Times again.
|
Let us the while with patience wait,
|
Submitting to the hand of Fate,
|
Which will in time our Joys restore;
|
Then what can we desire more?
|
Woman.
|
Dear Love, I know you hope to see
|
Once more the Lands prosperity,
|
That Fortune will upon us smile,
|
But pray how shall we live the while?
|
Our Family is something large,
|
Six Children is no little charge,
|
For to be fed and cloathd also,
|
Whether we have imploy or no.
|
Man.
|
My Children they are Blessings Love,
|
Sent from a gracious God above;
|
Then do not murmur in the least,
|
Content is a continual Feast.
|
Gods Providence does comfort yield,
|
He cloaths the Lillies of the Field,
|
And feeds the Ravens of the Air,
|
Then why shouldst thou and I despair?
|
Woman.
|
But, Husband, Husband, she replyd,
|
When I was made your lawful Bride,
|
I brought two hundred Pounds in Gold,
|
As good as ever Merchant told:
|
Yet, since the Times have been so bad,
|
Through many Losses we have had,
|
Its wasted, therefore I complain,
|
I neer shall see so much again.
|
Man.
|
Perhaps you maynt, yet neertheless,
|
If God does but our Labours bless,
|
We may be furnishd with content,
|
Then do not in the least lament.
|
Love, let not Losses make thee sad;
|
When Job was strippd of all he had,
|
His Sorrows he with patience bore,
|
And grew far richer than before.
|
He in his Sorrows thus did say,
|
God gives and likewise takes away,
|
And blessed be his holy Name,
|
From whom his greatest Comforts came.
|
Then let us learn of him, my Dear,
|
To bear with Faith and Patience here,
|
The Sorrows which we undergo,
|
For God is merciful I know.
|
Then dry thine Eyes and do not weep,
|
For, while I live, I hope to keep,
|
With Pains and Care, my Family,
|
Our eldest Son shall work with me.
|
Woman.
|
Well, loving Husband, since I find,
|
That thou art so exceeding kind,
|
Gods Providence Ill not distrust,
|
For he is merciful and just.
|
Henceforward, with a chearful heart,
|
With thee Ill strive to bear a part;
|
Thy chearful Words, like Cordials fine,
|
Has curd this drooping Soul of mine.
|
|
|
|
|
|