Full pale he was with drinking, and nought red.
He hiccougheth, and speaketh through the nose,
As with the worst of colds, or quinsy's throes.
To bed he goeth, and with him trips his wife;
Light as a jay, and jolly seemed her life,
So was her jolly whistle well ywet.
The cradle at her bed's foot close she set
To rock, or nurse the infant in the night.
And when the jug of ale was emptied quite,
To bed, likewise, the daughter went anon:
To bed goes Allen; with him also John.
All's said: they need no drugs from poppies pale,
This Miller hath so wisely bibbed of ale;
But as an horse he snorteth in his sleep,
And blurteth secrets which awake he'd keep.
His wife a burden bare him, and full strong:
Men might their routing hear a good furlong.
The daughter routeth else, par compagnie.

Allen, the clerk, that heard this melody,
Now poketh John, and said, "Why sleepest thou?
Heardest thou ever sic a song ere now?
Lo, what a serenade's among them all!
A wild-fire red upon their bodies fall!
Wha ever listened to sae strange a thing?
The flower of evil shall their ending bring.
This whole night there to me betides no rest.
But, courage yet, all shall be for the best;
For, John," said he, "as I may ever thrive,
To pipe a merrier serenade I'll strive