Rondel

Repose eternal give to him
O Lord, and Light that never dies;
Even unto him whose platter lies
Empty of meat — yea, even to him
Who standeth bald, in turnip trim,
Sans beard, sans hair above the eyes.
Repose!

Fate sent him forth to exile dim,
And struck him hard, above the thighs;
Yet clear he cried, as still he cries,
" Lord, I appeal! " yea, even to him
Repose!
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Author of original: 
François Villon
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