Mr.Richardson said the lines were good, but that he did hold the reading of ballads and the conceits of rhymers a waste of time, to say nothing worse.

Sir Thomas hereat said that, as far as he could judge, the worthy folk of New England had no great temptation to that sin from their own poets, and did then, in a drolling tone, repeat some verses of the 137th Psalm, which he said were the best he had seen in the Cambridge Psalm Book:-- "The rivers of Babylon, There when we did sit down, Yea, even then we mourned when We remembered Sion.
Our harp we did hang it amid Upon the willow-tree; Because there they that us away Led to captivity! Required of us a song, and thus Asked mirth us waste who laid, 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.