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FORESIGHT, Oi the Charge of a, Child to his yoinger Companion.
That is work which I am rueing—
Pull the Primrose, Sister Anne!
Pull as many as you can.
— Here are Daisies, take your fill;
Pansies, and the Cuckow-flower:
Of the lofty Daffodil
Make your bed, and make your bower;
Fill your lap, and fill your bosom;
Only spare the Strawberry-blossom 1
Primroses, the Spring may love them —
There is a change — and I am poor;
What happy moments did I countt
A Well of love— it may be deep—
I trust it is, and never dry:
What matter? if the Waters sleep
In silence and obscurity.
— Such change, and at the very door
Of my fond Heart, hath made me poor.
I am not One who much or oft delight