Page:Poems - Tennyson (1843) - Volume 2 of 2.djvu/56

 And came again together on the king With heated faces; till he laugh'd aloud; And, while the blackbird on the pippin hung To hear him, clapt his hand in mine and sang— "Oh! who would fight and march and countermarch, Be shot for sixpence in a battle-field, And shovell'd up into a bloody trench Where no one knows? but let me live my life. "Oh! who would cast and balance at a desk, Perch'd like a crow upon a three-legg'd stool, Till all his juice is dried, and all his joints Are full of chalk? but let me live my life. "Who'd serve the state? for if I carved my name Upon the cliffs that guard my native land, I might as well have traced it in the sands; The sea wastes all: but let me live my life. "Oh! who would love? I woo'd a woman once, But she was sharper than an eastern wind, And all my heart turn'd from her, as a thorn Turns from the sea: but let me live my life." He sang his song, and I replied with mine: I found it in a volume, all of songs,