English poem
THE OUTLAW.
by Richard Hovey (1864–1900)
Oh, let my lord laugh in his halls When he the tale shall tell! But woe to Jarlwell and its walls 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 farm And 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 hot laugh so bold.
The shame he chuckles as he shows This 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!