John Taylor "The Water Poet"

As the sweet voice of a bird,
Heard by the lander in a lonely isle,
Moves him read more

As the sweet voice of a bird,
Heard by the lander in a lonely isle,
Moves him to think what kind of bird it is,
That sings so delicately clear, and make
Conjecture of the plumage and the form.

A simple maiden in her flower
Is worth a hundred coats of arms.

A simple maiden in her flower
Is worth a hundred coats of arms.

I sit within a helmless bark.

I sit within a helmless bark.

But that old man, who is lord of the broad estate and the hall,
Dropped off gorged from a read more

But that old man, who is lord of the broad estate and the hall,
Dropped off gorged from a scheme which left us flaccid and
drained.

Let never maiden think, however fair,
She is not fairer in new clothes than old.

Let never maiden think, however fair,
She is not fairer in new clothes than old.