Ballads and Other Poems By Mary Howitt |
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 | Ballads and Other Poems |  |
There are one and twenty gentlemen
Around the table sitting:
Ah, younger son! dare not that throw;
Each villain doth his business know,
And it is thy outwitting.
Around the table sitting:
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Each villain doth his business know,
And it is thy outwitting.
He has thrown the dice, he has lost the game!
And now he sits apart,
With burning anger on his brow,
And madness in his heart.
And now he sits apart,
With burning anger on his brow,
And madness in his heart.
He lifts the wine-cup to his lips,
A fevered man is he;
He drains it, and he filleth still,
And drinketh desperately!
A fevered man is he;
He drains it, and he filleth still,
And drinketh desperately!
| Ballads and Other Poems | |