Shoulder The Sky, My Lad, And Drink

The Troubles Of Our Proud And Angry Dust Are From Eternity, And Shall Not Fail. Bear Them We Can, And If We Can We Must. Shoulder The Sky, My Lad, And Drink Your Ale.

Hope Lies To Mortals And Most Believe Her, But Man's Deceiver Was Never Mine.

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 And Think By Fits And Starts, And If They Think, They Fasten Their Hands Upon Their Hearts.

Loveliest Of Trees, The Cherry Now Is Hung With Bloom Along The Bough.

When I Was One-and-twenty I Heard A Wise Man Say, `give Crowns And Pounds And Guineas But Not Your Heart Away; Give Pearls Away And Rubies But Keep Your Fancy Free.' But I Was One-and-twenty No Use To Talk To Me. When I Was One-and-twenty I Heard Him Say Again, `the Heart Out Of The Bosom Was Never Given In Vain; 'tis Paid With Sighs A Plenty And Sold For Endless Rue.' And I Am Two-and-twenty And Oh, 'tis True, 'tis True.