Lamb feeding in their fields,
Ten horses running on a rope;
Shouts up in the road as dust
Fill the air, darkening all sights
One behind jumping up in joy
Our eyes have seen the king!
Another hissing loud bestead
Behold dimness and sorrow!
But no one knew the king's wants
Neither the most desire of his heart.
Dry grounds, they too, they slips
Tired heads, they too, they sleeps
But who has made box his pillow
And set bag of bones a foot-rest;
Would never find one for himself,
Poor man, who has falsely stouted
And pranced himself the royal king,
He would scared the whole villagers;
With his den full of black hungry wolves
He had stretched out his hands for many.
Saying 'therein will i cast you too,
If you dear raise a word against me'
Give me my honor, praise my nobility
Fear my wolves--villagers, if I come;
Now to that threats, which he forgot
That whoso allowing his own hands,
To crown himself, as if this does last
Will a day remove it by his own hands
When the baby who has pull out his mouth,
Away from his mother's sucker would cry.
So Let never him say to all the world,
---His mother hasn't offered it to him;
You do know this, it was but his greed
That night he'd forgot to shut the den
The wolves rushing out of their doors
To be fed, stabbed on the king with ire
See what a poor the greedy king made
And since he could not found his way
He cried and cried for all the villagers
None heard him, for they were all asleep.