And worn the paths o’ folly
Till thou art foot-sore?
And hast the day grinned back to thee,
A folly-mask adown thy path
That layeth far behind thee?
Thy heart, my brother, hast thou then
Alost it ’pon the path?
And filled thee up o’ word and tung
O’ follysingers long the way?
Ah, weary me, ah, weary me!