Old Peasant

Ay, truly! 'tis well done, that you Our festive meeting thus attend; You, who in evil days of yore, So often show'd yourself our friend! Full many a one stands living here, Who from the fever's deadly blast, Your father rescu'd, when his skill The fatal sickness stay'd at last. A young man then, each house you sought, Where reign'd the mortal pestilence. Corpse after corpse was carried forth, But still unscath'd you issued thence.

Sore then your trials and severe; The Helper yonder aids the helper here.