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The Carpenters 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 left but 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.

Poem by A E Housman
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