Where my great-grandsire came of old,[13]
‘With amber beard and flaxen hair,
And reverend apostolic air,
The feast and holytide to share,
And mix sobriety with wine,
And honest mirth with thoughts divine.’
Small thought was his, in after-time,
E’er to be hitched into a rhyme.
The simple sire could only boast
That he was loyal to his cost,