I

My fairest child, I have no song to give you; 
No lark could pipe to skies so dull and grey: 
Yet, ere we part, one lesson I can leave you 
For every day. 

II 

Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever; 
Do noble things, not dream them, all day long: 
And so make life, death, and that vast for-ever 
One grand, sweet song.