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Mr. Garrett preached again in the afternoon. The text was Psalm 128:12. Again the preacher drew several lifelike pictures. He took his hearers to the mansion of the rich, to the study of the learned, and to the palace of royalty, in search of true happiness, but found it not. Then we were conducted to a little straw-thatched cottage, the lowly home of a humble Christian toiler, who had a sick wife and child and no work to do. As we approached it, the preacher paused and cried, "Hark! he is singing. What is it?" Just before we reached the cottage door, the preacher again cried, "Hark!" We listened, and heard the verse beginning, "I'll praise my Maker while I've breath." The effect was simply overpowering.

(Memoir of Rev. C. Garrett.)

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KJV: Although the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines; the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls:

WEB: For though the fig tree doesn't flourish, nor fruit be in the vines; the labor of the olive fails, the fields yield no food; the flocks are cut off from the fold, and there is no herd in the stalls: