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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=455641" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Old Barnard -- A Monkish Tale</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">OLD BARNARD was still a lusty hind,<br>Though his age was full fourscore;<br>And he us'd to go<br>Thro' hail and snow,<br>To a neighb'ring town,<br>With his old coat brown,<br>To beg, at his GRANDSON'S door!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">OLD BARNARD briskly jogg'd along,<br>When the hail and snow did fall;<br>And, whatever the day,<br>He was always gay,<br>Did the broad Sun glow,<br>Or the keen wind blow,<br>While he begg'd in his GRANDSON'S Hall.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His GRANDSON was a Squire, and he<br>Had houses, and lands, and gold;<br>And a coach beside,<br>And horses to ride,<br>And a downy bed<br>To repose his head,<br>And he felt not the winter's cold.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Old BARNARD had neither house nor lands,<br>Nor gold to buy warm array;<br>Nor a coach to carry,<br>His old bones weary<br>Nor beds of feather<br>In freezing weather,<br>To sleep the long nights away.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But BARNARD a quiet conscience had,<br>No guile did his bosom know;<br>And when Ev'ning clos'd,<br>His old bones repos'd,<br>Tho' the wintry blast<br>O'er his hovel past,<br>And he slept, while the winds did blow!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But his GRANDSON, he could never sleep<br>'Till the Sun began to rise;<br>For a fev'rish pain<br>Oppress'd his brain,<br>And he fear'd some evil<br>And dream'd of the Devil,<br>Whenever he clos'd his eyes!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And whenever he feasted the rich and gay,<br>The Devil still had his joke;<br>For however rare<br>The sumptuous fare,<br>When the sparkling glass<br>Was seen to pass,--<br>He was fearful the draught would choke!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And whenever, in fine and costly geer,<br>The Squire went forth to ride:<br>The owl would cry,<br>And the raven fly<br>Across his road,<br>While the sluggish toad<br>Would crawl by his Palfry's side.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And he could not command the Sunny day,<br>For the rain would wet him through;<br>And the wind would blow<br>Where his nag did go,<br>And the thunder roar,<br>And the torrents pour,<br>And he felt the chill Evening dew.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And the cramp would wring his youthful bones,<br>And would make him groan aloud;<br>And the doctor's art<br>Could not cure the heart,<br>While the conscience still<br>Was o'ercharg'd with ill;<br>And he dream'd of the pick-axe and shroud.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And why could Old BARNARD sweetly sleep,<br>Since so poor, and so old was he?<br>Because he could say<br>At the close of day,<br>&quot;I have done no wrong<br>&quot;To the weak or strong,<br>&quot;And so, Heaven look kind on me!&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">One night, the GRANDSON hied him forth,<br>To a MONK, that liv'd hard by;<br>&quot;O ! Father !&quot; said he,<br>&quot;I am come to thee,<br>&quot;For I'm sick of sin,<br>&quot;And would fain begin<br>&quot;To repent me, before I die!&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;I must pray for your Soul; the MONK replied,<br>&quot;But will see you to-morrow, ere noon:<br>Then the MONK flew straight<br>To Old BARNARD'S gate,<br>And he bade him haste<br>O'er the dewy waste,<br>By the light of the waning Moon.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the Monkish cell did old BARNARD wait,<br>And his GRANDSON went thither soon;<br>In a habit of grey<br>Ere the dawn of day,<br>With a cowl and cross,<br>On the sill of moss,<br>He knelt by the light of the Moon.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;O! shrive me, Father!&quot; the GRANDSON cried,<br>&quot;For the Devil is waiting for me!<br>&quot;I have robb'd the poor,<br>&quot;I have shut my door,<br>&quot;And kept out the good<br>&quot;When they wanted food,--<br>&quot;And I come for my pardon, to Thee.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Get home young Sinner,&quot; Old BARNARD said,<br>And your GRANDSIRE quickly see;<br>&quot;Give him half your store ,<br>&quot;For he's old, and poor,<br>&quot;And avert each evil<br>&quot;And cheat the Devil,--<br>By making him rich as thee .&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The SQUIRE obey'd; and Old BARNARD now<br>Is rescued from every evil:<br>For he fears no wrong,<br>From the weak or strong,<br>And the Squire can snore,<br>When the loud winds roar,<br>For he dreams no more of THE DEVIL!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Mary+Darby+Robinson">Mary Darby Robinson</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=455641" data-title="Old Barnard -- A Monkish Tale de Mary Darby Robinson" data-description="OLD BARNARD was still a lusty hind,
Though his age was full fourscore;
And he us'd to go
Thro' hail and snow,
To a neighb'ring town,
With his old coat brown,
To beg, at his GRANDSON'S door!

OLD BARNARD briskly jogg'd along,
When the hail and snow..."></div>
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