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 Yet tell me why thou would'st but live an hour? Did life not promise happy years to thee That thou did'st turn to death? There had been many, many happy years, Yet thou but lived an hour. And I never saw thee living, And I never saw thine eyes!

When I see a brown-eyed lad, I wonder If thou art like him; And if I see a blue-eyed lad, my heart says, "Thy child is such an one," Yet I know not the colour of thine eyes, And though I should travel as far as the moon does, There is no one who can tell me, even at the end of the world!

Let not thy hands be idle, since that brings ''Pain to the heart. Spin off thy distaff quickly.''