Song

Every day hath its night:

Every night its morn:

Thorough dark and bright

Wingéd hours are borne;

Ah! welaway!

Seasons flower and fade;

Golden calm and storm

Mingle day by day.

There is no bright form

Doth not cast a shade—

Ah! welaway!

When we laugh, and our mirth

Apes the happy vein,

We're so kin to earth,

Pleasaunce fathers pain—

Ah! welaway!

Madness laugheth loud:

Laughter bringeth tears:

Eyes are worn away

Till the end of fears

Cometh in the shroud,

Ah! welaway!

All is change, woe or weal;

Joy is Sorrow's brother;

Grief and gladness steal

Symbols of each other;

Ah! welaway!

Larks in heaven's cope

Sing: the culvers mourn

All the livelong day.

Be not all forlorn:

Let us weep in hope—

Ah! welaway!