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1766–1823

The Simple Story.

Robert Bloomfield

‘ Dame, we should know before we go to rest, ‘ Whence comes this Girl, and how she came distrest. ‘ Wake her, and ask; for she is sorely bruis'd: ‘ I long to know by whom she's thus misus'd.

The Stranger bursting into tears, look'd pale, And this the purport of her artless tale. ‘ I have no Parents; and no friends beside: ‘ I well remember when my Mother died:

‘ My Brother cried; and so did I that day: ‘ We had no Father;— he was gone away; ‘ That night we left our home new cloaths to wear: ‘ The Work-house found them; we were carried there.

‘ We lov'd each other dearly; when we met ‘ We always shar'd what trifles we could get.

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The Simple Story. · Robert Bloomfield · Poetry Cove