Great Things

Sweet cyder is a great thing,      A great thing to me,     Spinning down to Weymouth town      By Ridgway thirstily,     And maid and mistress summoning      Who tend the hostelry:     O cyder is a great thing,      A great thing to me!     The dance it is a great thing,      A great thing to me,     With candles lit and partners fit      For night-long revelry;     And going home when day-dawning      Peeps pale upon the lea:     O dancing is a great thing,      A great thing to me!     Love is, yea, a great thing,      A great thing to me,     When, having drawn across the lawn      In darkness silently,     A figure flits like one a-wing      Out from the nearest tree:     O love is, yes, a great thing,      A great thing to me!     Will these be always great things,      Great things to me? . . .     Let it befall that One will call,      "Soul, I have need of thee:"     What then? Joy-jaunts, impassioned flings,      Love, and its ecstasy,     Will always have been great things,      Great things to me!