A Shropshire Lad/The Carpenter's Son
XLVII
THE CARPENTER'S SON
'Here the hangman stops his cart:Now the best of friends must part.Fare you well, for ill fare I:Live, lads, and I will die.
'Oh, at home had I but stayed'Prenticed to my father's trade,Had I stuck to plane and adze,I had not been lost, my lads.
'Then I might have built perhapsGallows-trees for other chaps,Never dangled on my own,Had I but left ill alone.
'Now, you see, they hang ne high,And the people passing byStop to shake their fists and curse;So ’tis come from ill to worse.
'Here hang I, and right and leftTwo poor fellows hang for theft:All the same's the luck we prove,Though the midmost hangs for love.
'Comrades all, that stand and gaze,Walk henceforth in other ways;See my neck and save your own:Comrades all, leave ill alone.
'Make some day a decent end,Shrewder fellows than your friend.Fare you well, for ill fare I:Live, lads, and I will die.'
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