Think no more, lad; laugh, be joll… Why should men make haste to die? Empty heads and tongues a-talking Make the rough road easy walking, And the feather pate of folly

On moonlit heath and lonesome bank The sheep beside me graze; And yon the gallows used to clank Fast by the four cross ways. A careless shepherd once would kee…

The Wain upon the northern steep Descends and lifts away. Oh I will sit me down and weep For bones in Africa. For pay and medals, name and rank,

“Here the hangman stops his cart: Now the best of friends must part. Fare you well, for ill fare I: Live, lads, and I will die. ”Oh, at home had I but stayed

If truth in hearts that perish Could move the powers on high, I think the love I bear you Should make you not to die. Sure, sure, if stedfast meaning,

I ‘listed at home for a lancer, Oh who would not sleep with the br… I ’listed at home for a lancer To ride on a horse to my grave. And over the seas we were bidden

Could man be drunk for ever With liquor, love, or fights, Lief should I rouse at morning And lief lie down of nights. But men at whiles are sober

The laws of God, the laws of man, He may keep that will and can; Not I: let God and man decree Laws for themselves and not for me… And if my ways are not as theirs

Soldier from the wars returning, Spoiler of the taken town, Here is ease that asks not earning… Turn you in and sit you down. Peace is come and wars are over,

The mill-stream, now that noises c… Is all that does not hold its peac… Under the bridge it murmurs by, And here are night and hell and I… Who made the world I cannot tell;

Far in a western brookland That bred me long ago The poplars stand and tremble By pools I used to know. There, in the windless night-time,

The time you won your town the rac… We chaired you through the market-… Man and boy stood cheering by, And home we brought you shoulder-h… To-day, the road all runners come,

Crossing alone the nighted ferry With the one coin for fee, Whom, on the wharf of Lethe waiti… Count you to find? Not me. The brisk fond lackey to fetch and…

'Tis time, I think, by Wenlock to… The golden broom should blow; The hawthorn sprinkled up and down Should charge the land with snow. Spring will not wait the loiterer’…

He would not stay for me, and who… He would not stay for me to stand… I shook his hand, and tore my hear… And went with half my life about m…