'Comfort at hand! Pluck up thy heart. Look, lo, where it doth stand. Since the redress of all thy smart Doth lie so good at hand Pluck up thy heart. 'Pluck up thy heart. Why droopest thou so?' So said I, methought, And from the hill I looked low, And with mine eye I sought Comfort at hand. 'Comfort at hand mine eye hath found,' Methought. 'Therefore be glad. If she be there may heal thy wound, Why shouldest thou then be sad? Pluck up thy heart. 'Pluck up thy heart. A mourning man Doth get no good by woe. Be glad alway, for whoso can Shall find whereso he go Comfort at hand. 'Comfort at hand! Go seek and find. Look if there be redress. If not, abide a better wind. In hope of some release Pluck up thy heart.' |