Although I put away his life

Although I put away his life -
An Ornament too grand
For Forehead low as mine, to wear,
This might have been the Hand

That sowed the flower, he preferred -
Or smoothed a homely pain,
Or pushed the pebble from his path -
Or played his chosen tune -

On Lute the least - the latest -
But just his ear could know
That whatsoe'er delighted it,
I never would let go -

The foot to bear his errand -
A little Boot I know -
Would leap abroad like Antelope -
With just the grant to do -

His weariest Commandment -
A sweeter to obey,
Than "Hide and Seek" -
Or skip to Flutes -
Or all Day, chase the Bee -

Your Servant, Sir, will weary -
The Surgeon, will not come -
The World, will have it's own - to do -
The Dust, will vex your Fame -

The Cold will force your tightest door
Some Febuary Day,
But say my Apron bring the sticks
To make your Cottage gay -

That I may take that promise
To Paradise, with me -
To teach the Angels, avarice,
You, Sir, taught first - to me.