But Roger the Monk got excessively drunk,
So they put him to bed, and they tucked him in!
The lay-brothers gazed on each other, amazed;
And Simon the Deacon, with grief and surprise.
As he peeped through the key-hole, could scarce fancy real
The scene he beheld, or believe his own eyes.
In his ear was ringing the Lord Abbot singing--
He could not distinguish the words very plain,
But 'twas all about "Cole," and "jolly old Soul,"
And "Fiddlers," and "Punch," and things quite as profane.