_To the Same._
_Stonehouse, April 26, 1737._
_Dear Sir_,
BE pleased to send the _Poor Country Curate_, and _Flavel’s Husbandry
Spiritualized_. I know not what to do for want of a clock in the
house. How shall I know, how my precious time passes away? You’ll mind
your promise to come. Here are lovely, solitary, and pleasant walks
to commune with your own heart, and search out your spirit. Has Mr.
_Pauncefoot_ wrote to me? My dear friend _Stratford_’s death affects
me still. Methinks I long to be above, employed as he is. But alas,
I am not ripe for glory; if I was, my heavenly Father would gather
me into his garner. Farewell, Dear Sir; remember I am alone, and pray
accordingly for
Your sincere, though weak friend,
_G. W._