The Joyous Wanderer by Alice Meynell — Read

I go by road, I go by street --

Lira, la, la!

O white highways, ye know my feet!

A loaf I carry and, all told,

Three broad bits of lucky gold --

Lira, la, la!

And O within my flowering heart,

(Sing, dear nightingale!) is my Sweet.

A poor man met me and begged for bread --

Lira, la, la! / "Brother, take all the loaf," I said, / I shall but go with lighter cheer -- / Lira, la, la! / And O within my flowering heart / (Sing, sweet nightingale!) is my Dear.

A thief I met on the lonely way -- / Lira, la, la! / He took my gold; I cried to him, "Stay! / And take my pocket and make an end." / Lira, la, la! / And O within my flowering heart / (Sing, soft nightingale!) is my Friend.

Now on the plain I have met with death -- / Lira, la, la! / My bread is gone, my gold, my breath.

But O this heart is not afraid -- / Lira, la, la! / For O within this lonely heart / (Sing, sad nightingale!) is my Maid.