He stood in the midst of the long, white road
And swept off his cap till it touched the ground.
Ah, Reverent Sir, well met, said the fool,
A worthier transport never was found.
I pray you allow me to mount with you,
Your palfrey seems both sturdy and young.
The abbot looked up from the holy book
And cried out in anger, Hold your tongue!
How dare you obstruct the Kings highroad,
You saucy varlet, get out of my way.
Then he gave the fool a cut with his whip
And leaving him smarting, he rode away.
The fool was angry, the fool was sore,
And he cursed the folly of monks and maids.
If I could but meet with a man, sighed the fool,
For a woman fears, and a friar upbraids.
Then he saw a flashing of distant steel
And the clanking of harness greeted his ears,
And up the road journeyed knights-at-arms,
With waving plumes and glittering spears.
The fool took notice and slowly arose,
Not quite so sure was his foolish heart.
If priests and women would none of him
Was it likely a knight would take his part?
They sang as they rode, these lusty boys,
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2016-03-17
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