Kindness

Good Meaester Collins heaerd woone dayA man a-talken, that did zayIt woulden answer to be kind,He thought, to vo'k o' grov'len mind,Vor they would only teaeke it wrong,That you be weak an' they be strong."No," cried the goodman, "never mind,Let vo'k be thankless,--you be kind;Don't do your good for e'thly endsAt man's own call vor man's amends.Though souls befriended should remainAs thankless as the sea vor rain,On them the good's a-lost 'tis true,But never can be lost to you.Look on the cool-feaeced moon at nightWi' light-vull ring, at utmost height,A-casten down, in gleamen strokes,His beams upon the dim-bough'd woaks,To show the cliff a-risen steep,To show the stream a-vallen deep,To show where winden roads do leaed,An' prickly thorns do ward the meaed.While sheaedes o' boughs do flutter darkUpon the woak-trees' moon-bright bark.There in the lewth, below the hill,The nightengeaele, wi' ringen bill,Do zing among the soft-air'd groves,While up below the house's ovesThe maid, a-looken vrom her roomDrough window, in her youthvul bloom,Do listen, wi' white ears amongHer glossy heaeirlocks, to the zong.If, then, the while the moon do lightThe lwonesome zinger o' the night,His cwold-beam'd light do seem to showThe prowlen owls the mouse below.What then? Because an evil will,Ov his sweet good, mid meaeke zome ill,Shall all his feaece be kept behindThe dark-brow'd hills to leaeve us blind?"