Poems From "A Shropshire Lad" - 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 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."