And wherever my eyes by my feet are borne,
To the muse at night and morn
For those who do or don't bestow,
The mellow words of song shall flow.
Come then, good folks, your plenty share;
O give, my prince! and maiden fair,
Be bountiful to-day.
Sooth, custom bids ye all to throw
Whole handfulls to the begging crow;
At least give something; say not, No,