Think No More, Lad

Think no more, lad; laugh, be jolly:

     Why should men make haste to die?

Empty heads and tongues a-talking

Make the rough road easy walking,

And the feather pate of folly

     Bears the falling sky.

Oh, 'tis jesting, dancing, drinking

     Spins the heavy world around.

If young hearts were not so clever,

Oh, they would be young for ever:

Think no more; 'tis only thinking

     Lays lads underground.
 

A.E. Housman