Master Oliver

Yea, son, wilt thou go? Ah thou knowest from of old time My words might not stay thee from aught thou wert willing; And e'en so it must be now. And yet hast thou asked me To go with thee, son, if aught I might help thee?-- Ah me, if thy face might gladden a little I should meet the world better and mock at its mocking: If thou goest to find her, why then hath there fallen This heaviness on thee? is thy heart waxen feeble?