Читать книгу Come Hither: A Collection of Rhymes and Poems for the Young of All Ages - Various - Страница 96

What noise of viols is so sweet

As when our merry clappers ring?

What mirth doth want when beggars meet?

A beggar's life is for a king.

Eat, drink, and play, sleep when we list,

Go where we will—so stocks be missed.

Bright shines the sun; play, beggars, play!

Here's scraps enough to serve to-day.

The world is ours, and ours alone;

For we alone have world at will.

We purchase not—all is our own;

Both fields and street we beggars fill.

Bright shines the sun; play, beggars, play!

Here's scraps enough to serve to-day.

Frank Davidson

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