When I was bold, when I was bold-
 And that's a hundred years!-
Oh, never I thought my breast could hold
 The terrible weight of tears.

I said: "Now some be dolorous;
 I hear them wail and sigh,
And if it be Love that play them thus,
 Then never a love will I."

I said: "I see them rack and rue,
 I see them wring and ache,
And little I'll crack my heart in two
 With little the heart can break."

When I was gay, when I was gay-
 It's ninety years and nine!-
Oh, never I thought that Death could lay
 His terrible hand in mine.

I said: "He plies his trade among
 The musty and infirm;
A body so hard and bright and young
 Could never be meat for worm."

"I see him dull their eyes," I said,
 "And still their rattling breath.
And how under God could I be dead
 That never was meant for Death?"

But Love came by, to quench my sleep,
 And here's my sundered heart;
And bitter's my woe, and black, and deep,
 And little I guessed a part.

Yet this there is to cool my breast,
 And this to ease my spell;
Now if I were Love's, like all the rest,
 Then can I be Death's, as well.

And he shall have me, sworn and bound,
 And I'll be done with Love.
And better I'll be below the ground
 Than ever I'll be above.