She fell beside the road and lay
Silent within the sounding place;
A dog turned from the passers-by
And licked her face.
Their anger melted into tears;
They wept for her they had disowned—
They bore her to her grave, and then
The dog they stoned.
DRINKING-SONG
Fill the bowl and praise the wine,
Give good measure, rise and quaff—
(Who dares say the dawn-stars shine?
Brothers, shame him by a laugh.)
What knows he of soon or late,
Who has been the fool of Fate?
Kiss the blue eyes and the brown,
Cheeks that pale and cheeks that glow,
Kiss the smile and kiss the frown,
Lightly love and lightly go.
He knows neither love nor hate,
Who has been the fool of Fate.
Clasp a stranger by the hand,
Call it friendship for a day;
When alone you see him stand,
Swear you only spoke in play.
What cares he for friend or mate,
Who has been the fool of Fate?
Gather laurels that decay,
Wear them withered on your breast;
Ere they crumble in a day;
Tread them under foot in jest.
What knows he of honour’s weight,
Who has been the fool of Fate?
Take the best that Life can give,
Drink, but do not pass it on.
Live to drink and drink to live—
(Who spoke of a dream foregone?)
He has seen all dreams abate,
Who has been the fool of Fate.
Dreams! What dreams of heaven or hell?
Gods that bless and Gods that spurn?
What if lighter blows befell,
Does he bide till death to burn?
What cares he for hells that wait,
Who has been the fool of Fate?