I br br My fairest child, I have no song to give you; br No lark could pipe to skies so dull and grey: br Yet, ere we part, one lesson I can leave you br For every day. br br II br br Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever; br Do noble things, not dream them, all day long: br And so make life, death, and that vast for-ever br One grand, sweet song.