6 Take me hence, my brave comrades, the vet'ran did cry, My duty's complete, and contented I die.
THE BEGGAR GIRL. Over the mountain and over the moor, Hungry and barefoot I wander forlorn; My father is dead, and my mother is poor, And she grieves for the days that will never return. Pity, kind gentlefolks, friends to humanity, Cold blows the wind, and the night's coming on Give me some food for my mother in charity Give me some food, and then I'll begone. Call me not lazy-back, beggar, and bold enough? Fain would I learn both to knit and to sew I've two little brothers at home, --when they're old enough, They will work hard for the gifts you bestow. Pity, kind gentlefolks, &c. O think, while you revel, so careless and free, Secure from the wind, and well clothed and fed; Should fortune so change it how hard would it be To beg at a door for a morsel of bread. Pity, kind gentlefolks, &c.
