The Lord has put down

In the Bible; He says:

The sin in the world,—

It grieves him to his heart.

The Lord he forbiddeth

All cruelty to dumb creatures,

And helpless human too.

He will cut the sinners asunder hereafter.

Human, they cannot get into heaven,

Without they do God's commandments, in deeds, words, and thoughts,

To human, and dumb creatures too.

Consider how you would feel yourselves to be crueled.

The greatest sin is to cruel the poor harmless dumb creatures,

They cannot speak, nor help themselves,

The next sin is to cruel sick human,

The next sin is to cruel any who cannot help themselves.

The Lord give human his word,

To do justice to the afflicted and needy,

To all poor sufferers, human and dumb creatures too,

To be tender and kind to all.

O may our sympathizing hearts,

In generous pleasures know,

Kindly to share in others' joy,

And weep for others' woe.

O Charity, thou heavenly grace,

All tender, soft and kind;

A friend to all the living race,

To all that's good inclined.

The Lord takes pleasure in them,

Which will not hurt dumb creatures, nor human,

In not any way whatever,

Have holy hearts, tender and kind.

The wicked shall their triumph see,

And gnash their teeth in agony,

They and their envy, pride, and spite,

Sink down to everlasting punishment.

The full rank of evil one wants all to be cruel,

To the poor harmless dumb creatures,

And cruel to sick human too,

And take the advantage and cruel all.

The full rank of evil one wants all to be murders,

And lie, rob, cheat, and steal,

And deceit, and contraryness, and so on,

And plague every body they can.

The good God of heaven,

Will cast off such sinners,

To their double rank,

Punishment hereafter.

Poor thoughtless sinners,

Going on in sin,

Minding the evil one,

Their punishment they will have hereafter.

God has given human his word,

To have no evil conduct,

And no evil speaking,

And no evil thoughts.

God wants all to be tender and kind,

Soft be our hearts, their misery to feel,

And swift

Our hands to aid.

This world a place of misery,

Some of the worst of sinners have destroyed my head,

I cannot bear it up, O my misery,

Their heart is made of stone, to do such a thing.

Love God with all your soul and strength,

With all your heart and mind,

Be faithful, just, and kind,

Have tender feelings in your heart.

Deal with another as you'd have

Another deal with you,

What you're unwilling to receive

Be sure you never do.

The wicked shall see it, and grieve away,

And gnash with their teeth, and melt away,

The desire of the wicked shall perish away,

And away they will go, to punishment great.

They slay the helpless,

They murder the fatherless,

God will hold up the fatherless child,

If it is His own.

O God, the father of the fatherless,

Have mercy on me,

Deliver me from the wicked.

God says, depart from evil, and good they must do.

I am cast down to the dust of the earth,

With trouble, trials, and sickness,

I am grieved to my heart for sin in the world,

For the poor harmless dumb creatures,

And for the best human too.

When poor little heart Pinky,

Was about six weeks old,

She was taken with the chicken distemper,

Chickens died off all over this island.

She was catching grasshoppers, and crickets,

In the forenoon smart,

At twelve o'clock she was taken sick,

And grew worse.

At one o'clock she was past opening her eyes,

And could not stand,

Her body felt cold

And stiff to my hand.

I give her a portion of epsom salts,

With a little black pepper in it,

I wept over her that afternoon,

I prayed to the Lord to save me her life.

I sat up that night,

With her in my lap,

Till eleven o'clock that night,

Then she seemed to be better.

Then I put her in a thing, a good soft bed,

And lay down and spoke to her often,

Say how do you do, little dear, she answered me quick,

Then I knew she was better.

The next day I gave her

Warm water to drink,

The third day she was herself,

Got well and smart.

She remained well four years,

And laid me pretty eggs,

Then the Lord thought best to take her from the evil to come,

Without being sick but a very little while.

When I was raising poor little dear in my lap,

And it rained on the window,

She would look at the rain,

And put her head under my cape.

And take it out every once in a while,

And look at the rain,

And put it under my cape again,

Up most to my shoulder.

Poor cunning little dear,

My heart is broken for her,

She and I loved each other so well,

And she had more than common wit.

That dear little heart,

Remembered four years,

Ever since she was a little chicken,

I know it by many things.

Her dear friend is left in trouble, and undergo sickness too.

Them that knew me once, know—me—no—more,

Her death renewed me to seek for God,

To land in heaven hereafter.

Hear my prayer, O Lord, my God of heaven,

Grant me I beseech Thee, O Lord,

Send Thy holy spirit into all the needy hearts,

In the whole wide world around,

Convince them of sin, give them the holy spirit,

O that they may be kind and tender

To the poor harmless dumb creatures,

They cannot speak, nor help themselves,

O Lord, prepare the inhabitants of the earth

To live in this world and in the world to come.

O Lord, I beseech Thee, protect me from committing sin,

O Lord, help me to watch and pray,

O Lord, I give Thee thanks for what blessings I have,

O Lord, can thou deliver me from sickness, trouble and trials?

O Lord, stand my friend in this world and in the world to come.

O Lord, that the professing inhabitants may not fall back

And go to sinning again. O that they may be true Christians,

The holy spirit, love and tender kindness for dumb creatures

And human too, love God and land in heaven,

O Lord, enable me to have the holy spirit all the days of my life,

O Lord, grant me I beseech Thee,

I pray for Thy kingdom to come, to destroy all sin,

For the poor harmless dumb creatures,

And for sick human too.

And for all the troubled in the wide world round,

Human and dumb creatures too,

For thine is the kingdom and the glory forever. Amen.

Sickness distressing, by trouble and trials,

Walk, stir, or do a little in the house,

It hurts me very bad,

And I cannot ride to have comfort.

My head a misery place all of my time,

And part of my time in great misery,

And noise sets my head

In a dreadful condition.

Most nothing hurts me,

And most nothing beats me out,

I am dreadful worn down with long sickness,

And trials, and sometimes trouble too.

Sick I do feel all my whole time,

And misery feelings from head to feet.

A number of years,

I have undergone great sickness.

Some of my diseases are cured a few years ago,

And some of them helped some,

And some of them patched along,

And some of them not any better at all,

But I am dreadful wore down with long sickness.

A common thing in my sickness,

Milk my cow, take care of my hens,

In such misery, I felt as if I must fall at every step,

But I must do it, I must do it.

Oh, Thou who dry'st the mourner's tear,

How dark this world would be.

If when deceived and wounded here,

We could not fly to Thee.

When sore afflictions press me down,

I need thy quickning powers,

Thy word that I have rested on,

Shall help my heaviest hours.

A sketch of two Poor little Banties,

They died with old age, over twelve years ago,

Poor little Ada Queetie died over thirteen years ago, in 1858.

Poor little Beauty Linna died over twelve years ago, in 1859.

O my Poor deceased little Ada Queetie,

She knew such a sight, and her love and mine,

So deep in our hearts for each other,

The parting of her and her undergoing sickness and death,

O heart rending!

She and I could never part,

Do consider the night I was left,

What I underwent, no tongue could express,

Weeping the whole night through.

Poor little Ada Queetie's sickness and death,

Destroyed my health at an unknown rate,

With my heart breaking and weeping,

I kept fire going night after night, to keep Poor little dear warm,

I kept getting up nights to see how she was,

And see what I could do for her.

Three her last days and nights,

She breathed the breath of life here on earth,

She was taken down very sick, then I was up all night long,

The second night I was up till I was going to fall,

Then I fixed her in her box warm, close by the fire,

Put warm clothes under, over and around,

And left fire burning and lay down, with all my clothes on,

A very little while, and got up and up all the time.

The third night I touched no bed at all,

Poor little heart, she was struck with death at half past eleven o'clock.

She died in my arms at twelve o'clock at night, O heart rending!

I could been heard to the road, from that time till daylight,

No tongue could express my misery of mind.

She had more than common wit,

And more than common love,

Her heart was full of love for me,

O do consider my Poor little heart.

She was my dear and nearest friend, to love and pity me,

And to believe that I was sick,

She spoke to me, and looked at me most all the time,

And could not go from me.

Poor little heart, she used to jump down to the door to go out,

She would look around, and call to me to go with her,

She found I could not go, she would come in again,

She loved her dear friendy so well she could not go out and leave me.

O my dear beloved little heart, she was my own heart within me,

When she was well and I was sick, and made out to sit in my chair,

She knew I was sick, because I didn't say but a very little to her.

She would stand close to me all the time,

And speak to me, I could not take her eyes off my face,

And look as grieved as it her heart must break,

She was so worried for me,

And if I was forced to lay down,

Then she was more worried than ever.

When Poor little heart happened to be out the room,

And I was forced to lay down,

She would come and peek at me, and take on,

As if her heart must break,

And come straight to me and lament my cause,

And would not go from me,

Her feelings was so deeply rooted in her heart for me.

They was brought from Chilmark to New Town,

And remained there one year

For me to get able to take care of them.

And then they was brought to me.

Poor little Ada Queetie,

She used to do everything I told her,

Let it be what it would,

And knew every word I said to her.

If she was as far off as across the room,

And I made signs to her with my fingers,

She knew what it was,

And would spring quick and do it.

If she was far off and I only spoke her name,

She would be sure to run to me quick,

Without wanting anything to eat.

She would do 54 wonderful cunning things,

Poor Sissy would do 39,

They would do part of them without telling,

And do all the rest of them with telling.

I use to dream distressing dreams,

About what was coming to pass,

And awoke making a dreadful noise,

And Poor little Ada Queetie was making a mournful noise,

She was so worried for me,

Then I would speak to her and say: little dear,

Nothing ails you friendy.

Then she would stop and speak a few pretty words to me.

She use to shake my cape, with all her strength and might,

Every time I told her,

They would both put one foot into my hand,

Every time I told them,

They would both scratch my hand, and peck on my cap,

Every time I told them.

When some one used to happen to shut them out the room,

They would take on at a dreadful rate,

I let them straight in, and as soon as the person was gone,

Poor little Ada Queetie would not keep out of my lap,

Squeezing me close up, talking to me,

And Poor little Beauty Linna would not keep off my shoulders,

With her face squeezed close to my face, talking to me,

They was so glad they got back in this room with me,

And I wasn't hurt and carried away.

Consider those dear hearts, that loved me so well,

And depended all on me to be their true friend.

Poor little Beauty Linna, departed this life,

My hands around her by the fire, my heart aching,

I wept steady from that time, till next day,

I took the best of care of her, days and nights,

I did everything could be done,

I did the best I could do,

I sat up nights with her, till it made me very lame,

Then I fixed her in her bed, warm, close by the fire,

Put warm clothes under, over and around,

And left fire burning and lay down with all my clothes on,

And got up very often with her, and sat up as long as I could.

I never took off none of my clothes for 18 days and nights.

Poor little heart, never can call me back no more,

When I go out the room,

She did it as long as she was able,

For eight months after Poor Sissy's decease,

She would not let me go out the room,

Called me straight back, as soon as I went out.

I fed her with a teaspoon in her sickness,

Good milk and nutmeg, and good porridge,

And so I did Poor Sissy.

I made fire days and nights,

To keep Poor Beauty Linna warm,

The day before Poor little dear was taken away,

She opened her eyes and looked me up into my face,

For the last time, O heart melting,

Poor little Beauty Linna,

She could not have the wind to blow on her,

All her last summer through,

She would keep out the wind.

A mournful scene it was to me,

To see their breath depart,

Consider soon my time will come,

And I must follow on.

Anxiety of mind will keep any one up and doing,

If they have a friend sick,

If their own health is very miserable.

No one here on earth can know,

But only them that knows,

How hard it is to undergo trouble and sickness.

When I am taken away,

I must be buried to the east side,

Of my Poor little dears' graves.

Poor little Beauty Linna, she remembered Poor Sissy,

For eight months after Poor Sissy's decease,

I know it by many things.

They would always have the best of good cake,

And best of good wheat, brought from the west.

When they was both alive, and I had fire in the north room,

And it came up too cold for them,

They would go in the east room, and call me to come to them,

They would stand side and side, and look at the fire place, and look at me,

Deaning me to make fire there for them,

Then I would make fire there, and they and I sat down together,

Now they are gone and I am left broken hearted.

When Poor little Ada Queetie

Departed this life,

That was the first cause

Of my seeking for God.

The path of sorrow,

And that path alone,

Leads to the land

Where sorrows are unknown.

The sick, the troubled, God hears when they complain,

And all the sons of grief,

With tender heart, delights to bless,

And love to give relief.

It is not every one that says, Lord, Lord,

That can enter the Kingdom of heaven,

It is them that doeth God's commandments,

In deeds, words, and thoughts,

To human and dumb creatures too,

And love God and hate the evil one.

You don't know how hard it is to me,

Because I cannot ride somewhere,

I cannot ride nor walk out, impossible yet,

I used to ride once in a while,

On a canter, galop, and run,

O what comfort that was.

I have had horses to run with me,

So that the ground looked

All in black and white streaks.

There never was a horse

That ever started me from their back,

Now I am deprived from all comforts of life.

Poor, sick I, days are very dark,

To undergo sickness,

And no comforts of life,

I hope to have comfort in heaven.

O how much better to go to house of mourning,

Than to go to house of plays and frolicking,

Sorrow is better than laughter,

By sadness of the countenance the heart is made better.

O how I love the Holy law,

'Tis daily my delight,

And thence my meditations draw,

Divine advice by night.

Touched with sympathy within,

Christ knows our feeble frame,

He knows what sore temptations mean,

For he has felt the same.

Restraining prayer we cease to fight,

Prayer makes the Christian's armor bright,

And Satan trembles when he sees,

The weakest saint upon his knees.

Afflictions, though they seem severe,

In mercy oft are sent,

They stopped the prodigal's career,

And forced him to repent.

Prayer makes the darkened cloud withdraw,

Prayer climbs the ladder Jacob saw,

Gives exercise to faith and love,

Brings every blessing from above.

The Lord will sustain our weakest powers,

With his almighty arm,

And watch our most unguarded hours,

Against surprising harm.

Poor, weak, and worthless though I am,

I have a rich, almighty friend,

Jesus, the Saviour, is his name,

He freely loves and without end.

Human, God is love and truth,

God requires human to consider dumb creatures,

What a site of wit they have got,

And what a site of love they have got for one another,

And love for human too, if they are kind to them,

If human are cruel to dumb creatures in any way,

Or let them suffer in any way,

God will cast off such sinners, to everlasting punishment.

God requires human to take it to their own case,

If they was dumb creatures, could not speak, nor help themselves,

And human crueled them in any way,

Or let them suffer in any way.

Consider what you would undergo to be crueled,

If you could not help yourselves.

God requires human to leave off all their sins,

And pray to the Lord with truth, to take away their heart of stone,

And give them a good heart, the Holy spirit,

Prepare them to both live, and die,

Without true repentance, they will go to punishment,

According to their sins,

The thoughts are the ground work of all sin,

And ground work of all goodness too,

If any one is cruel to dumb creatures, they cannot get into Heaven,

They have not love of God in their hearts,

They will go to punishment hereafter.

This world a place of misery,

I am grieved to my heart,

For sin in the world.

Poor Pinky, that dear little heart,

She is gone, sore broke in her,

Died in distress, Poor little heart,

O it was heart rending.

O sick I do feel ever since,

I am left broken hearted,

She was my own heart within me,

She had more than common wit.

Poor Pinky's wit, and she loved me so well,

Them was the reasons,

I set so much by her,

And I raised her in my lap too.

She is taken from the evil to come,

If I had died and left her,

She would mourn for me,

And suffer, and die for me.

I wept all that night, and by spells ever since,

To God I cried, He supported me,

God has held me up, through all my trials,

And all I have to lean upon, in every cause.

If I had died and left her, to mourn, and suffer,

And could have known I should die and leave her,

I should have felt a great deal worse to leave her,

Than I do now, that she is gone before me.

I must be as reconciled as I can,

To part with Poor little dear,

All I have to comfort me is,

She is taken from the evil to come.

I hope I never shall have a hen, to set so much by again,

From over sea, she was brought to me, one week old,

I raised her in my lap,

She loved me dreadful dearly.

She would jam close to me,

Every chance she could get,

And talk to me, and want to get in my lap,

And set down close.

And when she was out from me,

If I only spoke her name,

She would be sure to run to me quick,

Without wanting anything to eat.

She placed her whole affections on me;

When she was alive, and saw me to the east window,

She would put her head through the pickets,

And look at me, as long as she could see my face.

She had more wit than any hen I ever knew,

Poor, sweet little dear, down in her silent grave,

Turning to dust, O heart rending,

I never can see her again.

God is supporting me under my trouble,

He took away my dear friend,

He has done it for the best,

It is all right and just.

But O it was heart rending,

For that Poor little heart,

To undergo death,

And for me to part with her.

When overwhelmed with grief,

My heart within me dies,

Helpless, and far from all relief,

To heaven I lift my eyes.

This world a place of misery,

O Lord land me in heaven,

That Holy, happy place,

When I bid adieu to this vain world.

Blessed are they,

Which have feelings to melt,

For the poor harmless dumb creatures,

And for sick human too.

And for all the troubled,

In the wide world around,

Human and dumb creatures too,

Great sympathy and love, they will have from the Lord.

I must be as reconciled as I can,

To part with Poor little dear,

It is all for the best,

From the evil to come.

She was sick and died very sudden,

Only two hours and a quarter,

About fifteen minutes dying.

Bloody water pouring out her mouth,

And her breath agoing, Poor little heart.

O dreadful melancholy I do feel for my dear,

She laid eggs till three days before her death,

She laid the most eggs, this four years around,

Than any hen I have on earth.

Soon my turn will come, and I must follow on,

I hope to land on that blest shore,

Where no sickness, no trouble, no trials,

Distress me no more.

My heart is fix'd on Thee, my God,

I rest my hope on Thee alone,

Christ wept so much himself,

He counts, and treasures up my tears.

Prayer an answer will obtain,

Through the Lord a little delay;

None shall seek his name in vain,

None be empty sent away.

The Lord takes pleasure in the just,

Whom sinners treat with scorn,

The meek, that lie despised in dust,

Salvation shall adorn.

Blest are the meek who stand afar,

From rage and passion, noise and war,

God will secure their happy state,

And plead their cause against the great.

To God I cried when troubles rose,

He heard me and subdued my foes,

He did my rising fears control,

And strength diffused through all my soul.

Consider how distressing sickness is to undergo,

And how distressing in many ways,

My parents' sickness, a number of years,

Caused them to sell cows, oxen, horses, and sheep,

English meadow, clear land, and wood land,

Consider how distressing sickness is in many ways.

Be you to others kind and true,

As you'd have others be to you,

And never do nor say to them,

Whate'er you would not take again.