Grandfather of the father of our Duke,—
With much magnificence of knights and squires,
Great velvet-vestured nobles, cloaked and plumed,
To hunt Thuringian deer. Then morn,—so rathe
To bid good-morrow to the husbandman
Heavy with slumber,—was too slow for these,
And on the wind-trod hills recumbent yawned
Aroused an hour too soon: ashamed, disrobed,
Rubbed the stiff sleep from eyes that still would close;
Like some young milkmaid whom the cock hath waked,