"It is my Michael that I called you for: My son, abroad, at school still, over sea. See if that hag is listening at the door. No? Shut the door; don’t lock it, let it be. No faith is kept to dying men like me. I am dipped deep and dying, bankrupt, done; I leave not even a farthing to my lovely son. "Neighbours, these many years our children played, Down in the fields together, down the brook; Your Mary, Keir, the girl, the bonny maid, And Occleve’s Lion, always at his book; Them and my Michael: dear, what joy they took Picking the daffodils; such friends they’ve been-- My boy and Occleve’s boy and Mary Keir for queen. "I had made plans; but I am done with, I. Give me the wine. I have to ask you this: I can leave Michael nothing, and I die. By all our friendship used to be and is, Help him, old friends. Don’t let my Michael miss The schooling I’ve begun. Give him his chance. He does not know I am ill; I kept him there in France. "Saving expense; each penny counts. Oh, friends, Help him another year; help him to take His full diploma when the training ends, So that my ruin won’t be his. Oh, make This sacrifice for our old friendship’s sake, And God will pay you; for I see God’s hand Pass in most marvellous ways on souls: I understand "How just rewards are given for man’s deeds And judgment strikes the soul. The wine there, wine. Life is the daily thing man never heeds. It is ablaze with sign and countersign. Michael will not forget: that son of mine Is a rare son, my friends; he will go far. I shall behold his course from where the blessed are." "Why, Nick," said Occleve, "come, man. Gather hold. Rouse up. You’ve given way. If times are bad, Times must be bettering, master; so be bold; Lift up your spirit, Nicholas, and be glad. Michael’s as much to me as my dear lad. I’ll see he takes his school." "And I," said Keir. "Set you no keep by that, but be at rest, my dear. "We’ll see your Michael started on the road." "But there," said Occleve, "Nick’s not going to die. Out of the ruts, good nag, now; zook the load. Pull up, man. Death! Death and the fiend defy. We’ll bring the farm round for you, Keir and I. Put heart at rest and get your health." "Ah, no," The sick man faintly answered, "I have got to go." Still troubled in his mind, the sick man tossed. "Old friends," he said, "I once had hoped to see Mary and Michael wed, but fates are crossed, And Michael starts with nothing left by me. Still, if he loves her, will you let it be? So in the grave, maybe, when I am gone, I’ll know my hope fulfilled, and see the plan go on." "I judge by hearts, not money," answered Keir. "If Michael suits in that and suits my maid, I promise you, let Occleve witness here He shall be free for me to drive his trade. Free, ay, and welcome, too. Be not afraid, I’ll stand by Michael as I hope some friend Will stand beside my girl in case my own life end."