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Home  »  Poems of Places An Anthology in 31 Volumes  »  The King of Yvetot

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
France: Vols. IX–X. 1876–79.

Yvetot

The King of Yvetot

By Pierre-Jean de Béranger (1780–1857)

Translated by John Oxenford

THERE was a King of Yvetot,

Who, little famed in story,

Went soon to bed, to rise was slow,

And slumbered without glory.

’T was Jenny crowned this jolly chap

With nothing but a cotton cap,

Mayhap.

Ho! ho! ho! ho! ha! ha! ha! ha!

What a famous king was he, O la!

Within his thatchéd palace he

Consumed his four meals daily;

He rode about his realm to see,

Upon a donkey, gayly;

Besides his dog, no guard he had,

He hoped for good when things were bad,—

Ne’er sad.

Ho! ho! ho! ho! ha! ha! ha! ha!

What a famous king was he, O la!

No costly tastes his soul possessed

Except a taste for drinking,

And kings who make their subjects blest

Should live well, to my thinking.

At table he his taxes got,

From every cask he took a pot

I wot.

Ho! ho! ho! ho! ha! ha! ha! ha!

What a famous king was this, O la!

He did not widen his estates

Beyond their proper measure;

A model of all potentates,

His only code was pleasure.

And ’t was not till the day he died

His faithful subjects ever sighed,

Or cried.

Ho! ho! ho! ho! ha! ha! ha! ha!

What a famous king was he, O la!

This wise and worthy monarch’s face

Is still in preservation,

And as a sign it serves to grace

An inn of reputation.

On holidays a joyous rout

Before it pushed their mugs about

And shout.

Ho! ho! ho! ho! ha! ha! ha! ha!

What a famous king was he, O la!