^{translated by H. W. Longfellow}

Let me go warm and merry still;
And let the world laugh, an’ it will.

Let other muse on earthly things,––
The fall of thrones, the fate of kings,
     And those whose fame the world doth fill;
Whilst muffins sit enthroned in trays
And orange-punch in winter sways
The merry scepter of my days;––
     And let the world laugh, an’ it will.

He that the royal purple wears,
From golden plate a thousand cares
     Doth swallow as a gilded pill;
On feasts like these I turn my back,
Whilst puddings in my roasting-jack
Beside the chimney hiss and crack;––
     And let the world laugh, an’ it will.

And when the wintry tempest blows,
And January’s sleets and snows
     Are spread o’er every vale and hill,
With one to tell a merry tale
O’er roasted nuts and humming ale,
I sit, and care not for the gale;––
     And let the world laugh, an’ it will.

Let merchants traverse seas and lands
For silver mines and golden sands;
     Whilst I beside some shadowry rill
Just where its bubbling fountain swells
Do sit and gather stones and shells,
And hear the tale the blackbird tells;––
     And let the world laugh, an’ it will.

For Hero’s sake the Grecian lover
The stormy Hellespont swam over;
     I cross without the fear of ill
The wooden bridge that slow bestrides
The madrigal’s enchanting sides,
Or barefoot wade through Yepe’s tides;––
     And let the world laugh, an’ it will.

But since the Fates so cruel prove,
That Pyramus should die of love,
     And love should gentle Thisbe kill;
My Thisbe be an apple-tart,
The sword I plunge into her heart
The tooth that bites the crust apart,––
     And let the world laugh, an’ it will.