Travellers

We shall lodge at the sign of the Grave, you say;
Well, the road is a long one we trudge, my friend,
So why should we grieve at the break of the day?
Let us sing, let us drink, let us love, let us play,--
We can keep our sighs for the journey's end.

We shall lodge at the sign o' the Grave, you say;
Well, since we are nearing our journey's end,
Our hearts should be happy while yet they may:
Let us sing, let us drink, let us love, let us play,
For perhaps it's a comfortless inn, my friend.