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When I'm at work within my stall, Upon him I will think; His kindness I to mind will call, Whene'er I eat or drink; His kindness was to me so great, The like was never known, His kindness I shall still repeat, And so shall my wife Joan.

I'll laugh, when I sit in my stall, And merrily will sing, That I with my poor last and awl, Am fellow with the king. But it is more I must confess, That I at first did know, But Harry Tudor ne'ertheless, Resolves it shall be so.

And now farewell unto Whitehall, I homeward must retire, To sing and whistle in my stall, My Joan will me désire: I do but think how she shall laugh, When she hears of this thing, That he that drank her nut-brown ale, Was England's Royal King.