Well, well, the world must turn upon its axis, And all mankind turn with it, heads or tails, And live and die, make love and pay our taxes, And as the veering winds shift, shift our sails.
By Heaven! it is a splendid sight to see For one who hath no friend, no brother there.
And hold up to the sun my little taper.
A thirst for gold, The beggar's vice, which can but overwhelm The meanest hearts.
The dew of compassion is a tear.
I am as comfortless as a pilgrim with peas in his shoes - and as cold as Charity, Chastity or any other Virtue.