The Tired Soldier/Begone Dull Care

by Anonymous

For other versions of this work, see Begone Dull Care.

BEGONE, DULL CARE.

Begone, dull care, I pr’ythee begone from me,Begone, dull care, thou and I shall never agree;Long time thou hast been tarrying here,And fain thou wouldst me kill,But I'faith, dull care,Thou never shalt have thy will.

Too much care will make a young man grey,And too much care will turn an old man to clay;

My wife shall dance and I will sing,So merrily pass the day;For I hold it one of the wisest thingsTo drive dull care away.

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