The Day of Small Things by Anne Manning

“I think I have been laid up nearly two years on this sofa, Phillis?” said I.
“Two years, come the 6th of October,” said Phillis.
“And, during that time, what mercies I have received! what alleviations, what blessings!”
“What sea-kale and early spare-o’-grass! what baskets of grapes and pottles of strawberries!” said Phillis.
“What songs in the night, what in-pourings of strength!” said I.
“So many pheasants, too, and partridges!” said Phillis. “Teal, woodcocks, and wild ducks!”
“David might well say, the Lord maketh our bed in our sickness, Phillis,” said I.
“Such a pretty bed as it is, too!” said Phillis. “So white, sweet, and clean! Russia sheets and Marseilles quilt, bleached on a heath common, close by a sweetbriar hedge!”
“Not only that—” said I.
“Not only that,” said Phillis, “but such pretty daisy-fringe to the curtains, and a clean tarletan blind to the window.”
“Such a lovely view from the window!” said I.