A Border Ballad

Oh, I have n't got long to live, for we all     Die soon, e'en those who live longest;     And the poorest and weakest are taking their chance     Along with the richest and strongest.     So it's heigho for a glass and a song,     And a bright eye over the table,     And a dog for the hunt when the game is flush,     And the pick of a gentleman's stable.     There is Dimmock o' Dune, he was here yester-night,     But he 's rotting to-day on Glen Arragh;     'Twas the hand o' MacPherson that gave him the blow,     And the vultures shall feast on his marrow.     But it's heigho for a brave old song     And a glass while we are able;     Here 's a health to death and another cup     To the bright eye over the table.     I can show a broad back and a jolly deep chest,     But who argues now on appearance?     A blow or a thrust or a stumble at best     May send me to-day to my clearance.     Then it's heigho for the things I love,     My mother 'll be soon wearing sable,     But give me my horse and my dog and my glass,     And a bright eye over the table.