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And watch for times of public woe,
To wrong both rich and poor?
Thankful to that Almighty power
Who makes my river flow,
I’ll use the means he gives, to sooth
A hungry neighbour’s woe.
My river flows when others freeze;
But ’tis at his command
For rich and poor I’ll grind alike;
No brib shall slain my hand.”
So all the country who had corn,
Here found their wants redress’d.
May ev'ry village in the land,
Be with such millers blest.
The Happy Workman.
I am a poor workman, as rich as a Jew:
A strange sort of tale! but however ’tis true:
Come listen awhile, and I’ll prove it to you.
