Lyrics 6 Songs from A Shropshire Lad: No. 5. The Lads in their Hundreds - George Butterworth, Benjamin Luxon & David Willison

The lads in their hundreds
To Ludlow come in for the fair,
There′s men from the barn and the forge
And the mill and the fold,
The lads for the girls
And the lads for the liquor are there,
And there with the rest
Are the lads that will never be old.
There's chaps from the town
And the field and the till and the cart,
And many to count are the stalwart,
And many the brave,
And many the handsome of face
And the handsome of heart,
And few that will carry their looks
Or their truth to the grave.
I wish one could know them,
I wish there were tokens to tell
The fortunate fellows
That now you can never discern;
And then one could talk with them
Friendly and wish them farewell
And watch them depart
On the way that they will not return.
But now you may stare as you like
And there′s nothing to scan;
And brushing your elbow
Unguessed at and not to be told
They carry back bright
To the coiner the mintage of man,
The lads that will die
In their glory and never be old.