Classic Poem

W HILOME there lived in fair Englonde
A Duke of peerless wealth,
And mickle care he took of her
Old Constitution's health.

Full fifty thousand pounds and more
To him his vassals paid,
But ne to King, ne Countree, he
Would yield the assessment made.

The Taxing-man, with grim visage
Came pricking on the way,
The Taxing-man, with wrothful words,
Thus to the Duke did say:

" Lord Duke, Lord Duke, thou'st hid from me,
" As sure as I'm alive,
" Of goodly palfreys seventeen ,
" Of varlets twenty-five . "

Then out he drew his gray goose quill,
Ydipp'd in ink so black,
And sorely to SURCHARGE the Duke,
I trowe, he was ne slack.

Then 'gan the Duke to looken pale,
And stared as astound,
Twaie coneynge Clerks, eftsoons he spies
Sitting their board around.

" O woe is me, " then cried the Duke,
" Ne mortal wight but errs!
" I'll hie to yon twaie coneynge Clerks,
" Yclept Commissioners. "

The Duke he hied him to the board,
And straught 'gan for to say, " A seely wight I am, God wot,
" Ne ken I the right way.

" These varlets twenty-five were ne'er
" Liveried in white and red;
" Withouten this, what signifie
" Wages, and board, and bed?

" And by Saint George, that stout horseman,
" My palfreys seventeen
" For two years, or perchance for three,
" I had forgotten clean. "

" Naie, " quoth the Clerk, " both horse and foot
" To hide was thine intent,
" Ne seely wight be ye, but did
" With good advisament.

" Surcharge, surcharge, good Taxing-man,
" Anon our seals we fix,
" Of sterling pounds, Lord Duke, you pay
" Three hundred thirty-six. "