SAY, fair maids, maying
In gardens green,
In deep dells straying,
What end hath been
Two Mays between
Of the flowers that shone
And your own sweet queen?-
-They are dead and gone!�

Say, grave priests, praying
In dule and teen,
From cells decaying
What have ye seen
Of the proud and mean,
Of Judas and John,
Of the foul and clean?-
-They are dead and gone!�

Say, kings, arraying
Loud wars to win,
Of your manslaying
What gain ye glean?
-They are fierce and keen,
But they fall anon,
On the sword that lean,-
They are dead and gone!�

ENVOY

Through the mad world-s scene
We are drifting on,
To this tune, I ween,
-They are dead and gone!�