-
Title
-
Poor tradesmen's lamentation
-
Singer
-
Unknown
-
Song Lyrics
-
Verse 1
Neighbours, country men and friends,
Attend unto our cry,
For still our trade is very bad,
Our wants do multiply;
Our case is such, we do request
Some favour from your land,
Till we again with trade are blest,
In once our happy land.
Verse 2
Sure Britons ne'er refuse to work,
And yet how hard we fall,
No heathen savage, Jew nor Turk,
Such hardships have to bear;
For weavers are all in great distress,
Employ we cannot find,
And thousands of us are compelled,
To leave our friends behind.
Verse 3
The man that does the poor assist,
And always them relieve,
On earth shall spend his days in peace,
In Glory after life.
The vineyard of our precious Lord
Before his labours lie,
And lo! We see a vast reward,
Awaits them in the skies.
Verse 4
May God the widow's ways protect,
And help the fatherless,
With those who shade world's neglect,
And languish in distress;
Give to our country commerce,
Again our trade renew,
Let those rejoice who have got work,
For we've got none to do.
Verse 5
Our visit to you now, kind friends,
We hope you will excuse,
And as we have explained our case,
We hope you won't refuse;
For we are now crying for bread,
And likely so to be,
For we cannot help ourselves,
In this sad misery.
Verse 6
A mite from you, though e'er so small,
Will greatly us befriend,
We hope you will no poorer be,
But richer in the end;
For he that giveth to the poor,
But laudeth to the Lord,
So now, kind friends, on us bestow,
Whate'er you can afford.
