[25]
Sing us among a Sion's song
Unto us as then they said.
‘Nay, Sir Thomas,’ quoth Mr. Richardson, ‘it is not seemly to jest over the Word of God. The writers of our Book of Psalms in metre held rightly that God's altar needs no polishing; and truly they have rendered the words of David into English verse with great fidelity.’ Our young gentleman, not willing to displeasure a man so esteemed as Mr. Richardson, here made an apology for his jesting, and said that, as to the Cambridge version, it was indeed faithful; and that it was no blame to uninspired men, that they did fall short of the beauties and richness of the Lord's Psalmist. It being now near noon, we crossed over the river, to where was a sweet spring of water, very clear and bright, running out upon the green bank. Now, as we stood thirsty, having no cup to drink from, seeing some people near, we called to them, and presently there came running to us a young and modest woman, with a bright pewter tankard, which she filled and gave us. I thought her sweet and beautiful, as Rebecca of old, at her father's fountain. She was about leaving, when Mr. Richardson said to her, it was a foul shame for one like her to give heed to the ranting of the Quakers, and bade her be a good girl, and come to the meeting. ‘Nay,’ said she, ‘I have been there often, to small profit. The spirit which thou persecutest testifieth against thee and thy meeting.’ Sir Thomas jestingly asked her if the spirit she spoke of was not such an one as possessed Mary Magdalen.
Sing us among a Sion's song
Unto us as then they said.
‘Nay, Sir Thomas,’ quoth Mr. Richardson, ‘it is not seemly to jest over the Word of God. The writers of our Book of Psalms in metre held rightly that God's altar needs no polishing; and truly they have rendered the words of David into English verse with great fidelity.’ Our young gentleman, not willing to displeasure a man so esteemed as Mr. Richardson, here made an apology for his jesting, and said that, as to the Cambridge version, it was indeed faithful; and that it was no blame to uninspired men, that they did fall short of the beauties and richness of the Lord's Psalmist. It being now near noon, we crossed over the river, to where was a sweet spring of water, very clear and bright, running out upon the green bank. Now, as we stood thirsty, having no cup to drink from, seeing some people near, we called to them, and presently there came running to us a young and modest woman, with a bright pewter tankard, which she filled and gave us. I thought her sweet and beautiful, as Rebecca of old, at her father's fountain. She was about leaving, when Mr. Richardson said to her, it was a foul shame for one like her to give heed to the ranting of the Quakers, and bade her be a good girl, and come to the meeting. ‘Nay,’ said she, ‘I have been there often, to small profit. The spirit which thou persecutest testifieth against thee and thy meeting.’ Sir Thomas jestingly asked her if the spirit she spoke of was not such an one as possessed Mary Magdalen.
