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EBBA 20677

Magdalene College - Pepys
Ballad XSLT Template
A true sence of Sorrow:
OR THE
Poor York-shire-Man protected by Providence,
in the greatest time of trouble.
When Grief and Care, almost Dispair,
does seem to overthrow;
Men in Distress and heaviness,
the Lord can kindness show.
To the Tune of, Rich Merchant-Man.

THere was a poor York-shire Man,
that was in great distress,
Most pittiously made his complaint
with grief and heaviness.

For scarcity and want,
he was oppressed sore,
He could not find his Children bread,
he was so very poor.

And his poor Wife, God wot,
was lately brought to bed,
With two poor Infants at her Breast,
and had no Drink nor Bread.

A woeful Lying-in,
was this the Lord doth know,
God keep every Woman,
from knowing of such woe.

O husband dear she said,
for want of Food I dye,
Some succor do for me provide,
to help my misery.

The Man with many a Tear,
most mournfully repli'd,
I have no money to buy us Bread,
and then his Children cri'd.

They came about him round,
and on his Cloaths they hung
And sadly made their complaint,
their little hands they wrung.

Do not cry my Babes, he said,
I will go seek some food,
He took his Gun then in his hand,
and going to the Wood.

And in the way as he went,
he met Farmers two or three,
And begg'd for Christ his sake,
to help his Misery.

Pray lend me the poor Man said,
one loaf of Barly Bread,
One pint of milk for my poor Wife,
in Childbed almost dead.

Think on my mighty need,
to lend me have no doubt,
I have no money for to pay,
but I will work it out.

But they in snappish sort,
did one by one reply,
We have already lent you more,
then we can well come by.

this struck him to the Heart,
as cold as any stone,
And straight from them he did depart,
with many a sigh and groan.

And at the length behold,
a tall man he did meet,
And coleblack was his Garments all,
from Head unto the Feet.

Thou blessed man said he,
Why mourneth thou so sore,
What is the cause you make such moan,
then tell me, and sigh no more.

Alas! good Sir, he said,
this thing for truth I know,
That Job was just, yet never man
endured greater Woe.

The man he pull'd out straight,
a handful of money bright,
Bid him go and relieve his Wife
and his Children that night.

Cause thou so faithful be,
and righteous do remain,
You shall be fed as Daniel was,
within the Lyons Den.

If truth in thee abide,
thou shalt not want for food,
Thou shalt be fed as Elias was,
that rambled in the Wood.

O blessed Lord, said the poor man,
what a happy man am I,
To have some food to give my Babes,
to help their misery.

I hope the Lord will bless,
this honest Gentleman,
For every penny that he gave me,
the Lord may send him ten.

The Lord have heard his prayer,
and him a plenty send,
But the Farmers both are very poor,
that would him nothing lend.

See what the Lord will do,
with men that are so just,
The Lord will always stand his Friend,
if that you in him trust.


This may be Printed. R.P.
Printed for J. Deacon at the Angel in Guilt-spur-street, without Newgate.

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