MS: 'In the character of a ruined Farmer'

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MS: 'In the character of a ruined Farmer'

Song.- Tune. Go from my [page torn]
In the character of a ruined Farmer. --

The sun he is sunk in the west;
All creatures retired to rest.
While here I sit, all sore beset,
With sorrow, grief and woe:
And it's O fickle Fortune, O.

The prosperous man is asleep,
Nor hears how the whirlwinds sweep;
But Misery and I must watch
The surly tempest blow:
And it's O fickle &c.

There lies dear Partner of my breast;
Her cares for a moment at rest:
Must I see thee my youthful pride,
Thus brought so very low!
And it's O fickle &c.

There lie my sweet babies in her arms;
No anxious fear their little hearts alarms;
But for their sake my heart does ache,
With many a bitter throe:
And it's O fickle &c.

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