The Tired Soldier/Begone Dull Care
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.
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;
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 things
To drive dull care away.
So merrily pass the day;
For I hold it one of the wisest things
To drive dull care away.