We have no castles,
We have no vassals,
We have no riches, no gems and no gold;
Nothing to ponder,
Nothing to squander —
Let us go wander
As minstrels of old.
You with your lute, love,
I with my flute, love,
Let us make music by mountain and sea;
You with your glances,
I with my dances,
Singing romances
Of old chivalry.
“Derry down derry!
Good folk, be merry!
Hither, and hearken where happiness is!—
Never go borrow
Care of to-morrow,
Never go sorrow
While life hath a kiss.”
Let the day gladden
Or the night sadden,
We will be merry in sunshine or snow;
You with your rhyme, love,
I with my chime, love,
We will make time, love,
Dance as we go.
Nothing is ours,
Only the flowers,
Meadows, and stars, and the heavens above;
Nothing to lie for,
Nothing to sigh for,
Nothing to die for
While still we have love.
“Derry down derry!
Good folk, be merry!
Hither, and hearken a word that is sooth:—
Care ye not any,
If ye have many
Or not a penny,
If still ye have youth!”