You cannot choose but love, lad, From dawn till twilight dreary; You cannot choose but love, lad, Though love grows weary, weary. For, lad, an if you love not, You'd best have slept, unwaking; But, O, an if you love, lad, Your heart is breaking, breaking. Though friends and lovers only Fill life with joyous breath, Yet friend or lover only Can make you pray for death. Throw open wide your heart then, Love's road-house for a mile! And if one turns to leave you Or stab you -- smile, lad, smile. |