Cast away care
Cast away care; he that loves sorrow
Lengthens not a day, nor can buy to-morrow ;
Money is trash, and he that will spend it,
Let him drink merrily, fortune will send it.
Merrily, merrily, merrily, oh, ho !
Play it off stiffly, we may not part so.
Wine is a charm, it heats the blood too,
Cowards it will arm, if the wine be good too ;
Quickens the wit, and makes the back able,
Scorns to submit to the watch or constable.
Merrily, &c.
Pots fly about, give us more liquor,
Brothers of a rout, our brains will flow quicker ;
Empty the cask, score up, we care not ;
Fill all the pots again, drink on, and spare not.
Merrily, &c.
poem by Thomas Dekker
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Related quotes
Cast away care, he that loves sorrow Lengthens not a day, nor can buy tomorrow; Money is trash, and he that will spend it, Let him drink merrily, fortune will send it.
quote by Thomas Dekker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spring
Sound the flute!
Now it’s mute.
Birds delight
Day and night;
Nightingale
In the dale,
Lark in sky,
Merrily,
Merrily, merrily, to welcome in the year.
Little boy,
Full of joy;
Little girl,
Sweet and small;
Cock does crow,
So do you;
Merry voice,
Infant noise,
Merrily, merrily, to welcome in the year.
Little lamb,
Here I am;
Come and lick
My white neck;
Let me pull
Your soft wool;
Let me kiss
Your soft face;
Merrily, merrily, we welcome in the year.
poem by William Blake from Songs of Innocence (1789)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Fortune Smiles
Fortune smiles, cry holiday,
Dimples on her cheeks do dwell,
Fortune frowns, cry welladay,
Her love is heaven, her hate is hell:
Since heaven and hell obey her power,
Tremble when her eyes do lour,
Since heaven and hell her power obey,
When she smiles, cry holiday.
Holiday with joy we cry
And bend, and bend and merrily,
Sing Hymns to Fortune's deity,
Sing Hymns to Fortune's deity.
Let us sing, merrily, merrily, merrily,
With our song let heaven resound,
Fortune's hands our heads have crown'd,
Let us sing merrily, merrily, merrily.
poem by Thomas Dekker
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The Sun Is Up
The sun is up, the sun is up,
Sing merrily we, the sun is up.
The birds they sing,
Upon the wing,
Hey nony nony no.
The pigeons coo,
The moolies moo,
Hey troli-loli lo.
The sun is up, the sun is up,
Sing merrily we, the sun is up.
The horses neigh,
The young lambs play,
Hey nony nony no.
The bees they hum,
O, quickly come!
Hey troli-loli lo.
The sun is up, the sun is up,
Sing merrily we, the sun is up.
The morning hours,
The dewy flowers,
Hey nony nony no,
And all we meet
Are fresh and sweet,
Hey troli-loli lo.
The sun is up, the sun is up,
Sing merrily we, the sun is up.
Then, sleepy heads,
All leave your beds!
Hey nony nony no.
For every thing
Doth sweetly sing
Hey troli-loli lo.
The sun is up, the sun is up,
Sing merrily we, the sun is up.
poem by Eliza Lee Follen
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Merrily, merrily shall I live now, under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
William Shakespeare in The Tempest
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Canadian Folksong
The doors are shut, the windows fast;
Outside the gust is driving past,
Outside the shivering ivy clings,
While on the hob the kettle sings.
Margery, Margery, make the tea,
Singeth the kettle merrily.
The streams are hushed up where they flowed,
The ponds are frozen along the road,
The cattle are housed in shed and byre,
While singeth the kettle on the fire.
Margery, Margery, make the tea,
Singeth the kettle merrily.
The fisherman on the bay in his boat
Shivers and buttons up his coat;
The traveler stops at the tavern door,
And the kettle answers the chimney’s roar.
Margery, Margery, make the tea,
Singeth the kettle merrily.
The firelight dances upon the wall,
Footsteps are heard in the outer hall;
A kiss and a welcome that fill the room,
And the kettle sings in the glimmer and gloom.
Margery, Margery, make the tea,
Singeth the kettle merrily.
poem by William Wilfred Campbell
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A drinking song
Come, brothers, share the fellowship
We celebrate to-night;
There's grace of song on every lip
And every heart is light!
But first, before our mentor chimes
The hour of jubilee,
Let's drink a health to good old times,
And good times yet to be!
Clink, clink, clink!
Merrily let us drink!
There's store of wealth
And more of health
In every glass, we think.
Clink, clink, clink!
To fellowship we drink!
And from the bowl
No genial soul
In such an hour can shrink.
And you, oh, friends from west and east
And other foreign parts,
Come share the rapture of our feast,
The love of loyal hearts;
And in the wassail that suspends
All matters burthensome,
We 'll drink a health to good old friends
And good friends yet to come.
Clink, clink, clink!
To fellowship we drink!
And from the bowl
No genial soul
In such an hour will shrink.
Clink, clink, clink!
Merrily let us drink!
There's fellowship
In every sip
Of friendship's brew, we think.
poem by Eugene Field
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We Fish
We fish, we fish, we merrily swim,
We care not for friend nor for foe.
Our fins are stout,
Our tails are out,
As through the seas we go.
Fish, Fish, we are fish with red gills;
Naught disturbs us, our blood is at zero:
We are buoyant because of our bags,
Being many, each fish is a hero.
We care not what is it, this life
That we follow, this phantom unknown;
To swim, it's exceedingly pleasant,--
So swim away, making a foam.
This strange looking thing by our side,
Not for safety, around it we flee:--
Its shadow's so shady, that's all,--
We only swim under its lee.
And as for the eels there above,
And as for the fowls of the air,
We care not for them nor their ways,
As we cheerily glide afar!
We fish, we fish, we merrily swim,
We care not for friend nor for foe:
Our fins are stout,
Our tails are out,
As through the seas we go.
poem by Herman Melville
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I have found
I have found, yes, I have found the wealth of the Divine Name's gem.
My true guru gave me a priceless thing. With his grace, I accepted it.
I found the capital of my several births; I have lost the whole rest of the world.
No one can spend it, no one can steal it. Day by day it increases one and a quarter times.
On the boat of truth, the boatman was my true guru. I came across the ocean of existence.
Mira's Lord is the Mountain-Holder, the suave lover, of whom I merrily, merrily sing.
Panchajanyam Blown
One of those many times again now
To count your attendance to me
On some special issue as to how
All the good folks are not free
From so many kamsas here who row
Readily to dine merrily merrily
Over the innocents.Your herd of cow
Am i at your sacred feet.Your Mercy!
Time for you sharply to blow
Your Panchajanyam declaring not a fiery
War but an outbursted nectar to flow
To the other side of this heavy
Planet for the good people who sow
So much hope in you.In urgency!
Krishna! come along with 'Amruth'just now
To protect us.Pretend to be friendly
But in real hostile with kamsas to tow
Them dead to hell.'Done hastily,
Bespoken'-yes, your viewing eyes should show.
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Hunter's Song
The toils are pitched, and the stakes are set,
Ever sing merrily, merrily;
The bows they bend, and the knives they whet,
Hunters live so cheerily.
It was a stag, a stag of ten,
Bearing its branches sturdily;
He came silently down the glen,
Ever sing hardily, hardily.
It was there he met with a wounded doe,
She was bleeding deathfully;
She warned him of the toils below,
O so faithfully, faithfully!
He had an eye, and he could heed,
Ever sing so warily, warily;
He had a foot, and he could speed--
Hunters watch so narrowly.
poem by Sir Walter Scott
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Two Pewits
Under the after-sunset sky
Two pewits sport and cry,
More white than is the moon on high
Riding the dark surge silently;
More black than earth. Their cry
Is the one sound under the sky.
They alone move, now low, now high,
And merrily they cry
To the mischievous Spring sky,
Plunging earthward, tossing high,
Over the ghost who wonders why
So merrily they cry and fly,
Nor choose 'twixt earth and sky,
While the moon's quarter silently
Rides, and earth rests as silently.
poem by Edward Thomas
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From Spring Days to Winter (For Music)
In the glad springtime when leaves were green,
O merrily the throstle sings!
I sought, amid the tangled sheen,
Love whom mine eyes had never seen,
O the glad dove has golden wings!
Between the blossoms red and white,
O merrily the throstle sings!
My love first came into my sight,
O perfect vision of delight,
O the glad dove has golden wings!
The yellow apples glowed like fire,
O merrily the throstle sings!
O Love too great for lip or lyre,
Blown rose of love and of desire,
O the glad dove has golden wings!
But now with snow the tree is grey,
Ah, sadly now the throstle sings!
My love is dead: ah! well-a-day,
See at her silent feet I lay
A dove with broken wings!
Ah, Love! ah, Love! that thou wert slain -
Fond Dove, fond Dove return again!
poem by Oscar Wilde
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My Daughter on her Thirtieth Birthday
A naked girl in the bath
Suds floating, eyes shining
A BIG girl riding Mr. Horsy-bike
Birthday party, green balloon
A special girl grooming Sheike
Sweat streaming, cheeks flaming
A Co-op girl in the kitchen
Baking sponges with her friend Rosie
A magic girl playing Ariel,
'Merrily, merrily shall I live now'
A gentle girl at my bedside
When I was sick with pneumonia
A grown-up girl working hard
Errol Street, massage
A beautiful thirty year old girl
Ready to fly
poem by Alison Cassidy
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Merrily Truly
An exhibition of confidence
An exhibition of perseverance
A special kind of bravery
With tolerance to a different anatomy
Children of God are they.
Skilfully proficient to display
With insight open, heart open
Mind footing in the Lord's heaven,
Shaking hands with God
Attested to be adepts in every field-
God is proud of them merrily, truly.
They play, they dance, they sing,
They write, they go by everything.
Differently abled, much focused
Being too salient; with eyes closed
Mouth and ears shut, With silenced limbs-
Enlightened is inner sense
Creating a great magnificent prowess.
Able and potential with intelligence.
A perfect physique though unprovided
Graciously graced by the Lord.
God is proud of them merrily, truly.
Our Gods polyheaded, polyhanded
Balancing meaningfully are understood.
Extra powers in their extra shapes
Empowering those children in excess.
Kumaragurupara, a dumb devotee sang verses.
Lord Muruga blessed him with changes.
Strange may it sound; but true.
Support them; they accrue
Laurels of success like Helen Keller
Sudhachandran and like people many more.
God is proud of them merrily, truly.
In the ocean of this society
Deep at the bottom hidden are plenty
Crying out for mercy,
For rescue impaired by destiny.
Replete with abilities
Despite their misshaped chassis;
Not to be segregated
But to be aggregated
With our powers and potential in unity
To live in perfect harmony.
God is proud of us all merrily, truly.
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Justice
Jack Doe met Dick Roe, whose wife he loved,
And said: 'I will get the best of him.'
So pulling a knife from his boot, he shoved
It up to the hilt in the breast of him.
Then he moved that weapon forth and back,
Enlarging the hole he had made with it,
Till the smoking liver fell out, and Jack
Merrily, merrily played with it.
Then he reached within and he seized the slack
Of the lesser bowel, and, traveling
Hither and thither, looked idly back
On that small intestine, raveling.
The wretched Richard, with many a grin
Laid on with exceeding suavity,
Curled up and died, and they ran John in
And charged him with sins of gravity.
The case was tried and a verdict found:
The jury, with great humanity,
Acquitted the prisoner on the ground
Of extemporary insanity.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Gold and Love for Dearie
Out on the mountain over the town,
All night long, all night long,
The trolls go up and the trolls go down,
Bearing their packs and singing a song;
And this is the song the hill-folk croon,
As they trudge in the light of the misty moon--
This is ever their dolorous tune:
'Gold, gold! ever more gold--
Bright red gold for dearie!'
Deep in the hill a father delves
All night long, all night long;
None but the peering, furtive elves
Sees his toil and hears his song;
Merrily ever the cavern rings
As merrily ever his pick he swings,
And merrily ever this song he sings:
'Gold, gold! ever more gold--
Bright red gold for dearie!'
Mother is rocking thy lowly bed
All night long, all night long,
Happy to smooth thy curly head,
To hold thy hand and to sing her song:
'T is not of the hill-folk dwarfed and old,
Nor the song of thy father, stanch and bold,
And the burthen it beareth is not of gold:
But it 's 'Love, love! nothing but love--
Mother's love for dearie!'
poem by Eugene Field
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Insects
These tiny loiterers on the barley's beard,
And happy units of a numerous herd
Of playfellows, the laughing Summer brings,
Mocking the sunshine on their glittering wings,
How merrily they creep, and run, and fly!
No kin they bear to labour's drudgery,
Smoothing the velvet of the pale hedge-rose;
And where they fly for dinner no one knows -
The dew-drops feed them not - they love the shine
Of noon, whose suns may bring them golden wine
All day they're playing in their Sunday dress -
When night reposes, for they can do no less;
Then, to the heath-bell's purple hood they fly,
And like to princes in their slumbers lie,
Secure from rain, and dropping dews, and all,
In silken beds and roomy painted hall.
So merrily they spend their summer-day,
Now in the corn-fields, now in the new-mown hay.
One almost fancies that such happy things,
With coloured hoods and richly burnished wings,
Are fairy folk, in splendid masquerade
Disguised, as if of mortal folk afraid,
Keeping their joyous pranks a mystery still,
Lest glaring day should do their secrets ill.
poem by John Clare
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Rockin' Around The Christmas Tree
Later we'll have some pumpkin pie and we'll do some caroling
You will get a sentimental feeling, when you hear voices singing
"Let's be jolly, deck the halls with boughs of holly"
Rockin' around the Christmas tree, have a happy holiday
Everyone's dancing merrily in the new old-fashioned way, hey
You will get a sentimental feeling, when you hear voices singing
"Let's be jolly, deck the halls with boughs of holly"
Rockin' around the Christmas tree at the Christmas party hop
Mistletoe hung where you can see every couple tries to stop
Rocking around the Christmas tree have a happy holiday
Everyone's dancing merrily in the new old-fashioned way
Rocking around the Christmas tree have a happy holiday
Everyone's dancing merrily in the new old-fashion way
song performed by by LeAnn Rimes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Snuff The Punk
Snuff the punk
Snuff the punk, Im getting tired of you chump
Bass in your face youll get a taste of p.o.d. funk
When I say punk or chump I dont mean you
Talkin about the devil and his crew
Listen
You came to rob and steal from the helpless
Warriors in christ we stand up for the defensless
So if you can get with this then step to this
And if you say yes sing the p.o.d. checklist
This is a spiritual war, we take no prisoners
Live a life of sin, you dont know what your getting into
You picked a winner, love the sinner, hate the sin dude
We got a plan to understand, heres what we gonna do
Snuff da punk, snuff the punk, snuff em, snuff em
Snuff the punk, snuff the punk
2x
P.o.d. hit one more time for those that dont be knowin
Merrily, merrily, merrily down the stream is how Im flowin
Keep goin, dont stop all props to p.o.d.
P.o.d. the gospel, the gospel that rocks
Rock you, we did it, I think its time to quit it
And when my king is greaking, yo, you better take a seat kid
The shield of god, aint nothin gonna hurt me
And too rough, were gonna get down and dirty
I told you once before homie, this is the real deal
No time to win your soul, its too late, we gotta steal it
Blinded by ignorance use some common sense
Though so tough God challenged my bluff g
I thank the lord the day he snuffed a punk like me
Snuff the punk, p.o.d. snuff the punk
4x
song performed by by P.O.D.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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