Good people all, of every sort,
Give ear unto my song;
And if you find it wondrous short,
It cannot hold you long.
In Islington there was a man
Of whom the world might say,
That still a godly race he ran—
Whene’er he went to pray.
A kind and gentle heart he had,
To comfort friends and foes:
The naked...
Good people all, with one accord,
Lament for Madam Blaize;
Who never wanted a good word—
From those who spoke her praise.
The needy seldom passed her door,
And always found her kind;
She freely lent to all the poor—
Who left a pledge behind.
She strove the neighborhood to please,
With manner wondrous winning...
