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“Good sonne, where Lindis winds away,
With her two bairns I marked her long;
Afar I heard her milking song.
For, lo! along the river's bed,
And uppe the Lindis raging sped;
And rearing Lindis backward pressed,
Shook all her trembling bankes amaine ;
Flung uppe her weltering walls again ;
The heart had hardly time to beat,
Sobbed in the grasses at oure feet :
Upon the roofe we sat that night,
The noise of bells went sweeping by ; I marked the lofty beacon light
Stream from the church tower red and high
A lurid mark, and dread to see ;
They rang the sailor lads to guide
From roofe to roofe, who fearless rowed;
And yet the ruddy beacon glowed ;
And didst thou visit him no more?
Thou didst, thou didst, my daughter deare; The waters laid thee at his doore
Ere yet the early dawn was clear;
That ebbe swept out the flocks to sea-
and mee ;
I shall never hear her more
When the water winding down,
To the sandy lonesome shore;
meadow grasses mellow,
Whitefoot, come uppe Lightfoot; Quit your pipes of parsley hollow,
She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
And very few to love :
Half-hidden from the eye!
Is shining in the sky.
When Lucy ceased to be ;
The difference to me!
My Mind TO ME A Kingdom IS.
My mind to me a kingdom is,
Such perfect joy therein I find,
That God or nature hath assigned :
No princely port, nor wealthy store,
Nor force to win a victory;
No shape to win a loving eye :
And hasty climbers soonest fall ;
Mishap doth threaten most of all :
I press to bear no haughty sway ;
I laugh not at another's loss,
Nor grudge not at another's gain ;
No worldly waves my mind can toss;
I brook what is another's bane :
My wealth is health and perfect ease,
And conscience clear my chief defence ;
Nor by desert to give offence :
THE CHARACTER OF A Happy Life.
How happy is he born and taught,
That serveth not another's will;
And simple truth his utmost skill !
Whose passions not his masters are ;
Whose soul is still prepared for death;
Of public fame or private breath :
Or vice; who never understood
Nor rules of state, but rules of good :
Who hath his life from humours freed ;
Whose conscience is his strong retreat ;
Nor ruin make accusers great :