What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
...
When I had money, money, O!
I knew no joy till I went poor;
For many a false man as a friend
Came knocking all day at my door.
...
I hear leaves drinking rain;
I hear rich leaves on top
Giving the poor beneath
Drop after drop;
...
When April scatters charms of primrose gold
Among the copper leaves in thickets old,
And singing skylarks from the meadows rise,
To twinkle like black stars in sunny skies;
...
She walks as lightly as the fly
Skates on the water in July.
To hear her moving petticoat
...
No idle gold -- since this fine sun, my friend,
Is no mean miser, but doth freely spend.
No prescious stones -- since these green mornings show,
...
Now, joy is born of parents poor,
And pleasure of our richer kind;
Though pleasure's free, she cannot sing
As sweet a song as joy confined.
...
It was the Rainbow gave thee birth,
And left thee all her lovely hues;
And, as her mother’s name was Tears,
So runs it in my blood to choose
...
Now shall I walk
Or shall I ride?
"Ride", Pleasure said;
"Walk", Joy replied.
...
If I were gusty April now,
How I would blow at laughing Rose;
I'd make her ribbons slip their knots,
And all her hair come loose.
...