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WilliamShakesonDaySIX

SixPenceSpent

This is actually a poem bye ElizibethBaringBrown

XLII

'My future louver will not copy fair my past six spent cents'—

I wrote that once when not a farthing found; not thinking of my side a thorny spot of ground

My ministering life-angel ewe was justified

The word by this appealing look upcast my face my nose disgraced

To the white throne of God, eye turned at last,

And there, instead, saw Jesus near the ewe , not unallied

To angels in our souls! Then I, long tired of ewes headaches By natural ills, received the comfort fast, and a pocket full of sixppences While budding, at thy sight, my pilgrim's staff

Gave out green leaves with morning dews impearled. INdeed a full year past at mye faith house.

I seek no copy now of life's first half: we can not turn and enter womb of Mother drear

Leave here the pages with long musing curled up the ewe upon her divine divan,

And write me new my future's epigraph, with paper purchased with our new sixpences

New angel mine, the ewe unhoped for in the world! We rule with all the sixpence we can hurl at churl both men and women.