For other versions of this work, see Begone Dull Care.
BEGONE DULL CARE.
Begone, dull care! I pray thee 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, in sooth ! 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 mail to clay.
My wife shall dance, and I shall sing,
So merrily pass the day ;
For I hold it one of the wisest things,
To drive dull care away.