Yes, what’s the use of striving on?

And what’s to show when all is done?

The bells will toll as now they toil,

Here’s an old lilt will summarize the whole:

“This fell about in summertide,

About the midmost of the year,

Our master did to covert ride

To drive the fallow deer.

Chanced we upon the Douglas men ere ever one of us was ware.”

“Then sped a shaft from covert side

And pierced in behind his ear;

This fell about in summertide

At midmost of the year.”

So down he fell and rested there

Among the sedge hard by the brook,

About the midmost of the year

His last and lasting rest he took.

And so, “This fell in winter late,

Or ever Candlemas drew near,

His bride had found another mate

Before the ending of the year.”

“His goshawks decked another’s wrists,

His hounds another’s voice did fear.

His men another’s errands ride

His steed another burden bear,

Him they forgot by Christmastide.

Ere Candlemas drew near.”

Our hounds shall know another leash,

Our men another master know,

And we reck little of it all, so we but find good rest below.

So what’s the use of striving on?

And what’s to show when all is done?

The ring of bells will chime and chime,

And all the rest’s just waste—just waste of time.