Thomas Hood

Ballad (Spring it is cheery)

  Spring it is cheery,
  Winter is dreary,
Green leaves hang, but the brown must fly;
  When he's forsaken,
  Wither'd and shaken,
What can an old man do but die?

  Love will not clip him,
  Maids will not lip him,
Maud and Marian pass him by;
  Youth it is sunny,
  Age has no honey,--
What can an old man do but die?

  June it was jolly,
  Oh for its folly!
A dancing leg and a laughing eye;
  Youth may be silly,
  Wisdom is chilly,--
What can an old man do but die?

  Friends, they are scanty,
  Beggars are plenty,
If he has followers, I know why;
  Gold's in his clutches,
  (Buying him crutches!)
What can an old man do but die?