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O lead me wheresoe'er I go,
Through this day's life or death! This day, be bread and peace my lot:
45 All else beneath the sun, Thou know'st if best bestow'd or not,
And let thy will be done.
50 One chorus let all Being raise ! All nature's incense rise !
THE FRIAR OF ORDERS GREY.
FIRST PUBLISHED BY DR. PERCY.
It was a Friar of Orders Grey
Walk'd forth to tell his beads; And he met with a lady fair,
Clad in a pilgrim's weeds. “Now Christ thee save, thou reverend Friar, 5
I pray thee tell to me, If ever at yon holy shrine
My true-love thou didst see." And how should I know
true-love From many another one ?" "O, by his cockle hat, and staff,
And by his sandal shoon :
That were so fair to view;
15 And eyne of lovely blue.
10 “O Lady, he is dead and gone !
Lady he is dead and gone !
And at his heels a stone.
“ Within these holy cloisters long
He languish'd, and he died, Lamenting of a lady's love,
And 'plaining of her pride.
Six proper youths and tall,
Within yon kirk-yard wall.”
And art thou dead and gone! And didst thou die for love of me !
Break, cruel heart of stone !”
Some ghostly comfort seek:
Nor tears bedew thy cheek.” “O do not, do not, holy Friar,
My sorrow now reprove;
That e'er won lady's love.
I'll evermore weep and sigh; For thee I only wish'd to live,
For thee I wish to die." “Weep no more, Lady, weep no more,
Thy sorrow is in vain:
For violets pluck'd the sweetest showers
Will ne'er make grow again. “Our joys as winged dreams do fly,
Why then should sorrow last? Since grief but aggravates thy loss,
Grieve not for what is past."
I pray thee, say not so:
'T is meet my tears should flow. “ And will he never come again ?
Will he ne'er come again?
For ever to remain.
“His cheek was redder than the rose;
The comeliest youth was he!
Alas, and woe is me!"
65 Men were deceivers ever: One foot on sea and one on land,
To one thing constant never. “Hadst thou been fond, he had been false, And left thee sad and heavy;
70 For young men ever were fickle found,
Since summer trees were leafy." “Now say
thou holy Friar; I pray thee say
not so: My love he had the truest heart;
75 O he was ever true!
“And art thou dead, thou much-loved youth,
And didst thou die for me
A pilgrim I will be.
My weary limbs I 'll lay,
That wraps his breathless clay." “Yet stay, fair Lady; rest awhile
85 Beneath this cloister wall : See, through the hawthorn blows the cold wind,
And drizzly rain doth fall.” “O stay me not, thou holy Friar; O stay me not, I pray;
90 No drizzly rain that falls on me
Can wash my fault away." “ Yet stay, fair Lady, turn again,
And dry those pearly tears; For see beneath this gown
95 Thy own true-love appears. “Here, forced by grief and hopeless love,
These holy weeds I sought; And here amid these lonely walls To end my days I thought.
100 “But haply, for my year of grace
Is not yet pass'd away,
No longer would I stay." “Now farewell grief, and welcome joy 105
Once more unto my heart:
For since I've found thee, lovely youth,
We never more will part.”
DEAR Chloe, while the busy crowd,
In folly's maze advance;
Nor join the giddy dance.
From the gay world we ’ll oft retire
Where love our hours employs;
To spoil our heartfelt joys.
And they are fools who roam:
And that dear hut, our home.
Of rest was Noah's dove bereft,
That safe retreat, the ark;
Explored the sacred bark.