Page:Songs from Vagabondia (1897).djvu/55

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When I shall laugh as well!And he that laughs the last, lads,Laughs well, laughs well!
He’s lord of many a burg and farmAnd mickle thralls and gold,And I am but my own right arm,My dwelling-place the wold.But when we twain meet face to face,He will not laugh so bold.
The shame he chuckles as he showsThis time he need not tell;I’ll give his body to the crows,And his black soul to Hell.For he that laughs the last, lads,Laughs well, laughs well!

THE KING’S SON.

“Daughter, daughter, marry no man,Though a king’s son come to woo,If he be not more than blessing or banTo the secret soul of you.”
“’T is the King’s son, indeed, I ween,And he left me even but now,And he shall make me a dazzling queen,With a gold crown on my brow.”

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