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She never told her love,
But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud,
Feed on her read more
She never told her love,
But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud,
Feed on her damask cheek. She pined in thought;
And, with a green and yellow melancholy,
She sat like Patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief.
Hee that lives ill, feare followes him.
Hee that lives ill, feare followes him.
With hand on the spade and heart in the sky
Dress the ground and till it;
Turn read more
With hand on the spade and heart in the sky
Dress the ground and till it;
Turn in the little seed, brown and dry,
Turn out the golden millet.
Work, and your house shall be duly fed:
Work, and rest shall be won;
I hold that a man had better be dead
Than alive when his work is done.
What sorrow was, thou bad'st her know,
And from her own she learnt to melt at others' woe.
What sorrow was, thou bad'st her know,
And from her own she learnt to melt at others' woe.
If the fish had not opened its mouth, it would not have been
caught.
If the fish had not opened its mouth, it would not have been
caught.
In good yeares corne is hay, in ill yeares straw is corne.
In good yeares corne is hay, in ill yeares straw is corne.
The Lord had a job for me, but I had so much to do,
I said, "You get somebody read more
The Lord had a job for me, but I had so much to do,
I said, "You get somebody else--or wait till I get through."
I don't know how the Lord came out, but He seemed to get along:
But I felt kinda sneakin' like, 'cause I know'd I done Him wrong.
One day I needed the Lord--Needed Him myself--needed Him right
away,
And He never answered me at all, but I could hear Him say
Down in my accusin' heart, "Nigger, I'se got too much to do,
You get somebody else or wait till I get through."
He that lives not well one yeare, sorrowes seven after.
He that lives not well one yeare, sorrowes seven after.
