Take to thy heart a new delight;
If not, make merry in despite!
For there is one who scorns thy power.
--But dance! for under Jedborough Tower
There liveth in the prime of glee,
A Woman, whose years are seventy-three, 10
And She will dance and sing with thee!

Nay! start not at that Figure--there!
Him who is rooted to his chair!
Look at him--look again! for He
Hath long been of thy Family.
With legs that move not, if they can,
And useless arms, a Trunk of Man,
He sits, and with a vacant eye;
A Sight to make a Stranger sigh!
Deaf, drooping, that is now his doom: 20
His world is in this single room:
Is this a place for mirth and cheer?
Can merry-making enter here?

The joyous Woman is the Mate
Of Him in that forlorn estate!
He breathes a subterraneous damp,
But bright as Vesper shines her lamp:
He is as mute as Jedborough Tower;
She jocund as it was of yore,
With all it's bravery on; in times, 30
When, all alive with merry chimes,
Upon a sun-bright morn of May,