Oh, poor Plymouth, how dost thou moan!
Thy children, all, are from thee gone;
And left thou art, in widow's state-
...
From my years young in days of youth,
God did make known to me his truth,
And call'd me from my native place
For to enjoy the means of grace
...
Oh Boston, though thou now art grown
To be a great and wealthy town,
Yet I have seen thee a void place,
Shrubs and bushes covering thy face.
...
Oh, poor Plymouth, how dost thou moan!
Thy children, all, are from thee gone;
And left thou art, in widow's state-
...
Blessed Robinson hath run his race,
From earth to heaven is gone,
To be with Christ, in heavenly place,
The blessed saints among.
...