On a stranger sight than a sylph or elf,On a man laughing at himself Under the greenwood tree —
The giant laughter of Christian men That roars through a thousand tales,Where greed is an ape and pride is an ass,And Jack's away with his master's lass,And the miser is banged with all his brass, The farmer with all his flails;
Tales that tumble and tales that trick, Yet end not all in scorning —Of kings and clowns in a merry plight,And the clock gone wrong and the world gone right,That the mummers sing upon Christmas night And Christmas Day in the morning.
"Now here is a good warrant," Cried Alfred, "by my sword;For he that is struck for an ill servant Should be a kind lord.
"He that has been a servant Knows more than priests and kings,But he that has been an ill servant, He knows all earthly things.
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