This page has been validated.
4
Fast by a living stream, it was
Our miller’s lot to dwell,
Which flow’d amain when others froze,
Nor ever stopp’d the mill.
The clam’rous people came from far,
This favour'd mill to find;
Both rich and -poor our miller sought;
For none but he could grind.
His neighbours cried : 'Now, miller, seize
The time to heap up store;
Since thou of young and helpless babes
Had got full half a score.
For folks when tempted to grow rich,
By means not over-nice,
Oft make their num’rous babes a plea,
To sanctify the vice.
Our miller scorn’d such counsel base;
And when he ground the grain,
With steadfast hand refus’d to touch
Beyond his lawful gain.
"When God afflicts the land,” said he,
“Shall I afflict it more?
