As fame reports a young duke kept a court

He pleased himself with his frolicsome sport

He found a poor tinker lying drunk on the ground

In such a deep sleep he heard not a sound


He said to his men, Richard, William, and Ben

We'll away to my palace and we'll sport with him then

He was carefully carried to the palace so grand

None would compare in all of this land


They stripped him down bare and he had not a care

They washed down his body, his face and his hair

They put on a nightgown of bright crimson and red

And left him to sleep in the duke's golden bed


In the morning when day, then admiring he lay

For to see the rich chamber both gaudy and gay

He looked all around him and was so amazed

And admired how he to this honor was raised


Though he seemed somewhat mute, he chose a rich suit

Which he straightway put on without longer dispute

From a place of convenience, the duke his good grace

Observed the man, in every case


A fine dinner was dressed both for him and his guests

He was placed at the table above all the rest

He had wine, he had brandy and soon he did snore

Being seven times drunker than ever before


Then the duke did ordain they should strip him again

And restore him to a tinker, and to ever remain

Again he was carried to the side of the road

Back once again where they first found their load


He slept all the night as indeed he well might

But when he did waken his joys took their flight

Oh the power and the glory so pleasant did seem

He thought it to be but a mere golden dream