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Will, in godlike consciousness, Every day enjoy. Full of germ, unfold As the smiling spring-time's Fairest charm, Outshining all thy fellows! And when the blossom's husk is faded, May the full fruit shoot forth From out thy breast, And ripen in the sunshine!

God bless him!—Is he sleeping still? To the fresh draught I nought can add, Saving a crust of bread for thee to eat.

I thank thee well. How fair the verdure all around, How green!

My husband soon Will home return From labour. Tarry, tarry, man, And with us eat our evening meal.

Is it here ye dwell?

Yonder, within those walls, we live. My father 'twas who built the cottage Of tiles and stones from out the ruins. 'Tis here we dwell.