OH, I haven't got long to live, for we all Die soon, e'en those who live longest; And the poorest and weakest are taking their chance Along with the richest and strongest. So it 's heigho for a glass and a song, And a bright eye over the table, And a dog for the hunt when the game is flush, And the pick of a gentleman's stable. There is Dimmock o' Dune, he was here yester-night, But he 's rotting to-day on Glen Arragh; 'T was the hand o' MacPherson that gave him the blow, And the vultures shall feast on his marrow. But it 's heigho for a brave old song And a glass while we are able; Here 's a health to death and another cup To the bright eye over the table. I can show a broad back and a jolly deep chest, But who argues now on appearance? A blow or a thrust or a stumble at best May send me to-day to my clearance. Then it 's heigho for the things I love, My mother 'll be soon wearing sable, But give me my horse and my dog and my glass, And a bright eye over the table. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I'M GOING BACK TO SOMETHING by DAVID IGNATOW A CHILD'S THOUGHT OF GOD by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING EPITAPH ON A HARE by WILLIAM COWPER AT CASTERBRIDGE FAIR: 1. THE BALLAD-SINGER by THOMAS HARDY MAIDEN MELANCHOLY by RAINER MARIA RILKE FRAGMENTS INTENDED FOR DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: A NIGHT-SCENE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |