Beranger's "My Last Song Perhaps"
When, to despoil my native France,With flaming torch and cruel swordAnd boisterous drums her foeman comes,I curse him and his vandal horde!Yet, what avail accrues to her,If we assume the garb of woe?Let's merry be,--in laughter weMay rescue somewhat from the foe!
Ah, many a brave man trembles now.I (coward!) show no sign of fear;When Bacchus sends his blessing, friends,I drown my panic in his cheer.Come, gather round my humble board,And let the sparkling wassail flow,--Chuckling to think, the while you drink,"This much we rescue from the foe!"
My creditors beset me soAnd so environed my abode,That I agreed, despite my need,To settle up the debts I owed;When suddenly there came the newsOf this invasion, as you know;I'll pay no score; pray, lend me more,--I--I will keep it from the foe!
Now here's my mistress,--pretty dear!--Feigns terror at this martial noise,And yet, methinks, the artful minxWould like to meet those soldier boys!I tell her that they're coarse and rude,Yet feel she don't believe 'em so,--Well, never mind; so she be kind,That much I rescue from the foe!
If, brothers, hope shall have in storeFor us and ours no friendly glance,Let's rather die than raise a cryOf welcome to the foes of France!But, like the swan that dying sings,Let us, O Frenchmen, singing go,--Then shall our cheer, when death is near,Be so much rescued from the foe!
Words in this poem
- despoil v. t.
- To strip, as of clothing; to divest or unclothe. [OF. despoiller, F. dépouiller, L. despoliare, despoliatum; de- + spoliare to strip, rob, spolium spoil, booty. Cf. Spoil, Despoliation.]
- boisterous a.
- Rough or rude; unbending; unyielding; strong; powerful. [OE. boistous; of uncertain origin; cf. W. bwyst wild, savage, wildness, ferocity, bwystus ferocious.]
- foeman n.
- An enemy in war. [AS. fhman.]
- horde n.
- A wandering troop or gang; especially, a clan or tribe of a nomadic people migrating from place to place for the sake of pasturage, plunder, etc.; a predatory multitude. Thomson. [F. horde (cf. G. horde), fr. Turk. ord, ordi, camp; of Tartar origin.]
- garb n.
- External appearance, as expressive of the feelings or character; looks; fashion or manner, as of speech. [OF. garbe looks, countenance, grace, ornament, fr. OHG. garawi, garwi, ornament, dress. akin to E. gear. See Gear, n.]
- abode n.
- Act of waiting; delay. [OE. abad, abood, fr. abiden to abide. See Abide. For the change of vowel, cf. abode, imp. of abide.]
- methinks v.
- It seems to me; I think. See Me. [AS. þyncan to seem, me þynceedh, me þuhte, OE. me thinketh, me thoughte; akin to G. dünken to seem, denken to think, and E. think. See Me, and Think.]
- artful a.
- Performed with, or characterized by, art or skill. [From Art.]
- minx n.
- The mink; -- called also minx otter. [See Mink.]
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Beranger's "My Last Song Perhaps" is in the public domain. This text is taken from A Little Book of Western Verse, Project Gutenberg ebook #9606; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Eugene Field, Beranger's "My Last Song Perhaps", in A Little Book of Western Verse (1889), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #9606, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/field-western-verse/beranger-s-my-last-song-perhaps.html, id L24654.
Form and metre
Beranger's "My Last Song Perhaps" is 40 lines in 5 stanzas of 8 lines each. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 91%).
See other poems in iambic tetrameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 -A-A-B-B france · swordA · comes · hordeA · her · woeB · we · foeB
- 2 -A-A-B-B now · fearA · friends · cheerA · board · flowB · drink · foeB
- 3 AB-B-A-A soA · abodeB · need · owedB · news · knowA · more · foeA
- 4 -A-A-B-B dear · noiseA · minx · boysA · rude · soB · kind · foeB
- 5 -A-A-B-B store · glanceA · cry · franceA · sings · goB · near · foeB
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| When, to despoil my native France, | 8 | ··˘/·/˘· |
| With flaming torch and cruel sword | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| And boisterous drums her foeman comes, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| I curse him and his vandal horde! | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Yet, what avail accrues to her, | 8 | ··˘/˘/·· |
| If we assume the garb of woe? | 8 | ··˘/···· |
| Let's merry be,--in laughter we | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| May rescue somewhat from the foe! | 8 | ·/˘//··· |
| Ah, many a brave man trembles now. | 8 | ·/···/˘· |
| I (coward!) show no sign of fear; | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| When Bacchus sends his blessing, friends, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| I drown my panic in his cheer. | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Come, gather round my humble board, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| And let the sparkling wassail flow,-- | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Chuckling to think, the while you drink, | 8 | /˘······ |
| "This much we rescue from the foe!" | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| My creditors beset me so | 8 | ·/˘˘˘/·· |
| And so environed my abode, | 8 | ······˘/ |
| That I agreed, despite my need, | 8 | ··˘/˘/·· |
| To settle up the debts I owed; | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| When suddenly there came the news | 8 | ·/˘˘···· |
| Of this invasion, as you know; | 8 | ··˘/˘··· |
| I'll pay no score; pray, lend me more,-- | 8 | ········ |
| I--I will keep it from the foe! | 8 | ········ |
| Now here's my mistress,--pretty dear!-- | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Feigns terror at this martial noise, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| And yet, methinks, the artful minx | 8 | ··˘/·/˘· |
| Would like to meet those soldier boys! | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| I tell her that they're coarse and rude, | 8 | ········ |
| Yet feel she don't believe 'em so,-- | 8 | ····˘/·· |
| Well, never mind; so she be kind, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| That much I rescue from the foe! | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| If, brothers, hope shall have in store | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| For us and ours no friendly glance, | 8 | ···/·/˘· |
| Let's rather die than raise a cry | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Of welcome to the foes of France! | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| But, like the swan that dying sings, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Let us, O Frenchmen, singing go,-- | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Then shall our cheer, when death is near, | 8 | ··/····· |
| Be so much rescued from the foe! | 8 | ···/˘··· |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.