So down we sat and bous'd again
Till the sun was in mid-sky,

When, just when the gentle west-wind came,
We hearken'd a dismal cry;

"Up, up, on the tree," quoth the beggar man
"Till these horrible dogs go by!"

And, lo! from the forest's far-off skirts,
They came all yelling for gore,

A hundred hounds pursuing at once,
And a panting hart before,

Till he sunk adown at the gallows' foot
And there his haunches they tore!

His haunches they tore, without a horn
To tell when the chase was done;
And there was not a single scarlet coat
To flaunt it in the sun!-

I turn'd, and look'd at the beggar man,
And his tears dropt one by one!

And with curses sore he chid at the hounds,

Till the last dropt out of sight,

Anon, saith he, "let's down again,

And ramble for our delight,

For the world's all free, and we may choose

A right cozie barn for to-night!"

With that, he set up his staff on end,

And it fell with the point due West;

So we far'd that way to a city great,
Where the folks had died of the pest-
It was fine to enter in house and hall,
Wherever it liked me best ;-

For the porters all were stiff and cold,
And could not lift their heads;

And when he came where their masters lay,
The rats leapt out of the beds :—
The grandest palaces in the land

Were as free as workhouse sheds.

But the beggar man made a mumping face,
And knock'd at every gate:

It made me curse to hear how he whin'd
So our fellowship turn'd to hate,

And I bade him walk the world by himself,

For I scorn'd so humble a mate!

So he turn'd right and I turn'd left,

As if we had never met;

And I chose a fair stone house for myself, For the city was all to let;

And for three brave holidays drank my fill Of the choicest that I could get.

And because my jerkin was coarse and worn, I got me a properer vest;

It was purple velvet, stitch'd o'er with gold, And a shining star at the breast,—

'Twas enough to fetch old Joan from her grave To see me so purely drest!—

But Joan was dead and under the mould,
And every buxom lass;

In vain I watch'd at the window pane,
For a Christian soul to pass ;-

But sheep and kine wander'd up the street,
And browz'd on the new-come grass.-

When lo! I spied the old beggar man,
And lustily he did sing!—

His rags were lapp'd in a scarlet cloak,
And a crown he had like a King;
So he stept right up before my gate
And danced me a saucy fling!

Heaven mend us all!—but, within my mind, I had kill'd him then and there;

To see him lording so braggart-like

That was born to his beggar's fare,
And how he had stolen the royal crown

His betters were meant to wear.

But God forbid that a thief should die
Without his share of the laws!

So I nimbly whipt my tackle out,
And soon tied up his claws,-

I was judge myself, and jury, and all,
And solemnly tried the cause.

But the beggar man would not plead, but cried

Like a babe without its corals,

For he knew how hard it is apt to go
When the law and a thief have quarrels,—
There was not a Christian soul alive
To speak a word for his morals.

Oh, how gaily I doff'd my costly gear,
And put on my work-day clothes;

I was tired of such a long Sunday life,-
And never was one of the sloths;

But the beggar man grumbled a weary deal,

And made many crooked mouths.

So I haul'd him off to the gallows' foot,
And blinded him in his bags;

'Twas a weary job to heave him up,

For a doom'd man always lags;

But by ten of the clock he was off his legs

In the wind and airing his rags!

So there he hung and there I stood,
The LAST MAN left alive,

To have my own will of all the earth:

Quoth I, now I shall thrive!

But when was ever honey made

With one bee in a hive!

My conscience began to gnaw my heart,

Before the day was done,

For the other men's lives had all gone out,

Like candles in the sun!

But it seem'd as if I had broke, at last,

A thousand necks in one!

So I went and cut his body down,

To bury it decentlie ;—

God send there were any good soul alive

To do the like by me!

But the wild dogs came with terrible speed,

And bay'd me up the tree!

My sight was like a drunkard's sight,
And my head began to swim,

To see their jaws all white with foam,
Like the ravenous ocean-brim ;-
But when the wild dogs trotted away
Their jaws were bloody and grim!

Their jaws were bloody and grim, good Lord!

But the beggar man, where was he?—

There was nought of him but some ribbons of rags

Below the gallows' tree!—

I know the Devil, when I am dead,

Will send his hounds for me!—

I've buried my babies one by one,
And dug the deep hole for Joan,
And cover'd the faces of kith and kin,
And felt the old churchyard stone