Classic Poem

OF A MEDIÆVAL GERMAN YOUTH .

'Tis well to win sweet Virtue's smile,
Ah, woe! if she refuse it!
I met with bad companions,
Who tempted me to lose it.

They won my gold by fraud and guile,
With cards and dice undid me;
The maidens, with their laughter,
Of sorrow sweetly rid me.

But, when they had made me drunk and vile,
They tore my garments off me;
And I, poor youth, was driven
To the door, for all to scoff me.

I woke at morn, and thought awhile
Some trick my fancy played me!
I sat, poor youth, at Cassel —
A soldier they had made me.