[Image: 'The Saviour is Born' by Vitali Linitsky]
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O thrice lucky town (the more lucky poor creatures)
Who ere could have thought that such luck would be thine
Such a stranger as thou art to things o' like nature
But time bringeth all things to pass—so its sighing
& O' what a blessing o' poor peoples sides
Who just before this were near pining to dead
That his Lordships great goodness condescends to provide
An odd sort of something that they may be fed
What a good Christian heart must his honour possess
To 'mean him so low when so high riches rank him
In giving this hodgepodge—they cant do no less
Then down on their knappers & twenty times thank him
& benevolent charity sure such as this is
'll set others a going for the good o poor ce'turs
& warm squeezing Mizers to open their fis'es
& soften the wit-leather hearts of our betters
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