Every shuiler is Christ,
Then be not hard or cold:
The bit that goes for Christ
Will come a hundred-fold.
The ear upon your corn
Will burst before its time;
Your roots will yield a crop
Without manure or lime.
And every sup you give
To crutch him on his way
Will fill your churn with milk,
And choke your barn with hay.
Then when the shuiler begs,
Be neither hard nor cold;
The share that goes for Christ
Will come a hundred-fold.