A Shropshire Lad
XLIV
Shot? so quick, so clean an ending?
Oh that was right, lad, that was brave;
Yours was not an ill for mending,
'T was best to take it to the grave.
Oh that was right, lad, that was brave;
Yours was not an ill for mending,
'T was best to take it to the grave.
Oh you had forethought, you could reason,
And saw your road and where it led,
And early wise and brave in season
Put the pistol to your head.
And saw your road and where it led,
And early wise and brave in season
Put the pistol to your head.
Oh soon, and better so than later
After long disgrace and scorn,
You shot dead the household traitor,
The soul that should not have been born.
After long disgrace and scorn,
You shot dead the household traitor,
The soul that should not have been born.
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