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VILLON QUITS FRANCE, by             Poem Explanation         Poet's Biography
First Line: We hang to-morrow, then? That doom is fit




We hang to-morrow, then? That doom is fit
For most of us, I think. Yet, harkee, friend,
I have a ballad here which I have writ
Of us and our high ending. Pray you, send
The scrawl to Cayeux, bidding him commend
François to grace. Old Colin loves me well,
For no good reason, save it so befell
We two were young together. ... When I am hung,
Colin will weep--and then will laugh, and tell
How many pranks we played when we were young.


Dear lads of yesterday! . .. We had not wit
To live always so we might not offend,
Yet- -how we laughed! I marvel now at it,
Because that merry company will spend
No more mad nights together. Some are penned
In abbeys, some in dungeons, others fell
In battle. . .. Time assesses death's gabelle,-
Salt must be taxed, eh?--well, we ranked among
The salt of earth. once. who are old and tell
How many pranks we played when we were young


Afraid to die, you ask?-Why, not a whit.
Ah, no! whole-heartedly I mean to wend
Out of a world I have found exquisite
By every testing. For I apprehend
Life was not made all lovely to the end
That life ensnare us. nor the miracle
Of youth devised but as a trap to swell
Old Legion's legions; and must give full tongue
To praise no less than prayer, when bidden tell
How many pranks we played when we were young.


Nay, cheerily we of the Cockle-shell,
And all whose youth was nor to stay nor quell,
Will dare foregather when earth's knell is rung,
And Calvary's young conqueror bids us tell
How many pranks we plaved when we were young.






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