As Christ the Lord was passing by, He came, one night, to a cottage door
He came, a poor man, to the poor; He had no bed whereon to lie
He asked in vain for a crust of bread, Standing there in the frozen blast
The door was locked an...
My own heart let me more have pity on; let Me live to my sad self hereafter kind,
Charitable; not live this tormented mind With this tormented mind tormenting yet
I cast for comfort I can no more get By groping round my comfortless, than...
They mustered us up with a royal din,
In wearisome weeks of drought
Ere ever half of the crops were in,
Or the half of the sheds cut out