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1859–1936

THE CARPENTER'S SON

Alfred Edward Housman

“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 perhaps Gallows-trees for other chaps, Never dangled on my own, Had I but left ill alone.”

“Now, you see, they hang me high, And the people passing by Stop to shake their fists and curse; So‘ tis come from ill to worse.”

“Here hang I, and right and left Two 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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THE CARPENTER'S SON · Alfred Edward Housman · Poetry Cove