All my wealth in my hands I carry—
Look, behold it—my gay guitar!
Gold and houses and lands encumber,
Never king, in his palace high,
Slumber’d as sweetly as I slumber,
Under the clear, unclouded sky.
Free as the wind, the rollicking rover,
Little of trouble or care I know,
Wandering, wandering all the world over,
Hither and thither, and to and fro.