As he sweetly sings,
Joy or pain, as he lists, to all.
But Rudolph, lord of the manor fair,
Lord of the castle, stout and strong,
Looked in sooth as cross as a bear,
And did not wear
A remarkable air
Of calm content as he viewed the throng.
The vassals marked his despondent mien,
And, whispering to each other, said, -
"What a pity it was that, though he'd been
So brave a knight,
With fame so bright,
Yet claret would always go to his head."
The revel was high, the revel was long, -
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