But if you ever come to a road where danger; Or guilt or anguish or shame's to share. Be good to the lad who loves you true, And the soul that was born to die for you; And whistle and I'll be there.

Ten thousand times I've done my best and all's to do again.

Life, to be sure, is nothing much to lose, But young men think it is, and we were young.

There, by the starlit fences The wanderer halts and hears My soul that lingers sighing About the glimmering weirs.

How clear, how lovely bright, How beautiful to sight Those beams of morning play; How heaven laughs out with glee Where, like a bird set free, Up from the eastern sea Soars the delightful day. To-day I shall be strong, No more shall yield to wrong, Shall squander life no more; Days lost, I know not how, I shall retrieve them now; Now I shall keep the vow I never kept before. Ensanguining the skies How heavily it dies Into the west away; Past touch and sight and sound Not further to be found, How hopeless under ground Falls the remorseful day.

Luck's a chance, but trouble's sure.

Stone, steel, dominions pass, Faith too, no wonder; So leave alone the grass That I am under.