The greatest joy in nature is the absence of man

There paused to shut the door A fellow called the Wind, With mystery before, And reticence behind.

The glad indomitable sea, The strong white sun.

Here's to the day when it is May And care as light as a feather, When your little shoes and my big boots Go tramping over the heather.

The sunn must lend his goulden beames, Soft windes their breath, green trees their shade, Sweete fields their flowers, cleare springs their streams, Ere such another smyle bee made.

Thou little bird, thou dweller by the sea, Why takest thou its melancholy voice, And with that boding cry Why o'er the waves dost fly? O, rather, bird, with me Through the fair land rejoice!

We'll sport and be free with Moll, Betty, and Dolly, Have oysters and lobsters to cure melancholy: Fish-dinners will make a lass spring like a flea, Dame Venus, love's lady, Was born of the sea.