For other versions of this work, see Begone Dull Care.
BEGONE DULL CARE.
Begone, dull care! I prithee begone from me;
Begone, dull care! thou and I can never agree.
Long time hast thou been tarrying here,
And fain thou wouldst me kill;
But i' faith! dull care,
Thou never shalt have thy will.
Too much care will make a young man grey;
And too much care will turn an old man to clay,
My wife shall dance, and I will sing,
So merrily pass the day;
For I hold it one of the wisest things.
To drive dull care away.