MS: 'In the character of a ruined Farmer'

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MS: 'In the character of a ruined Farmer'

5.
I once was by Fortune carest;
I once could relieve the distrest:
Now life's poor support hardly earn'd,
My fate will scare bestow:
And it's O, fickle & c.

6.
No comfort, no comfort I have!
How welcome to me were the grave!
But then my wife and children dear -
O whither would they go.
And it's O, fickle & c.

7.
O whither, O whither shall I turn!
All friendless, forsaken, forlorn!
For in this world, Rest or Peace,
I never more shall know!
And it's O, fickle Fortune O!

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