A Ballad Of François Villon, Prince Of All Ballad-makers Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABACBDEFEF ABABCDDFDF AGABBDDFDF H DDFDDF| Bird of the bitter bright grey golden morn | A |
| Scarce risen upon the dusk of dolorous years | B |
| First of us all and sweetest singer born | A |
| Whose far shrill note the world of new men hears | C |
| Cleave the cold shuddering shade as twilight clears | B |
| When song new born put off the old world's attire | D |
| And felt its tune on her changed lips expire | E |
| Writ foremost on the roll of them that came | F |
| Fresh girt for service of the latter lyre | E |
| Villon our sad bad glad mad brother's name | F |
| - | |
| Alas the joy the sorrow and the scorn | A |
| That clothed thy life with hopes and sins and fears | B |
| And gave thee stones for bread and tares for corn | A |
| And plume plucked gaol birds for thy starveling peers | B |
| Till death clipt close their flight with shameful shears | C |
| Till shifts came short and loves were hard to hire | D |
| When lilt of song nor twitch of twangling wire | D |
| Could buy thee bread or kisses when light fame | F |
| Spurned like a ball and haled through brake and briar | D |
| Villon our sad bad glad mad brother's name | F |
| - | |
| Poor splendid wings so frayed and soiled and torn | A |
| Poor kind wild eyes so dashed with light quick tears | G |
| Poor perfect voice most blithe when most forlorn | A |
| That rings athwart the sea whence no man steers | B |
| Like joy bells crossed with death bells in our ears | B |
| What far delight has cooled the fierce desire | D |
| That like some ravenous bird was strong to tire | D |
| On that frail flesh and soul consumed with flame | F |
| But left more sweet than roses to respire | D |
| Villon our sad bad glad mad brother's name | F |
| - | |
| ENVOI | H |
| - | |
| Prince of sweet songs made out of tears and fire | D |
| A harlot was thy nurse a God thy sire | D |
| Shame soiled thy song and song assoiled thy shame | F |
| But from thy feet now death has washed the mire | D |
| Love reads out first at head of all our quire | D |
| Villon our sad bad glad mad brother's name | F |
Algernon Charles Swinburne
(1)
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