Once on a time there was a knight
    Was called Sir Dominoes
Johannes Houven-Gouven-Schnouvers
    San Domingo Mose -
A warrior he, of knoble blood
    As e'er found fun in fight
Oh when he put his armour on
    He was a fearsome sight!
Bound round with straps, and strips, and strings,
    And thingumabobs and pegs,
With stove-lids buckled on his breast,
    And stove-pipes on his legs.
An iron pot upon his head
    And a brazen horn to toot,
A sword stuck up his burley back,
    And a razor down his boot.
He owned great castles, lands, and men,
    And gallant ships and steeds,
And twice as many golden coins
    As anybody needs.
Ye knight, he loved a farmer's lass:
    Alas, she loved him not;
But doted on a yeoman bold
    By name of Sam-u-el Slimme,
Who ploughed, and sowed, and reaped, and binned,
    And staunchley tilled ye dirt.
He wore a look of honesty,
    Likewise, a flannel shirt.
Strong was his arm; warm was his heart;
    And cold was his common sense;
But otherwise, poor Sam-u-el
    Had not a dozen pence.
Yet Albacinda scoffed and scorned
    Ye high and haughty knight.
She did not like his iron clothes
    Nor care to see him fight.
His castles were too old and dark;
    She scorned his gold as well-
Her father on Sir Mose did smile:
    She clung to Sam-u-el.

One morning in ye month of May,
    Amid ye growing grain,
Ye rival lovers met, eftsoon,
    A-comming down ye lane.
"Give way, vile caitiff!" cried Sir Mose,
    "And let me journey on;
Or I will strew thy fragments up
    And down ye horizon!"
Then bold Sir Mose he drew his sword,
    Felt once it's rusty edge,
And slashed a slash at Sam-u-el
    That mowed ten yards of hedge.
I' faith! It was a vicious blow
    And whistled in ye air!
But when it reached brave Sam-u-el,
    Sam-u-el was not there.
So fierce and fearful was ye stroke
    Sir What's-his-name arose,
Turned three successive somersaults,
    And landed on his nose.
His stove-plates drove him in ye mud
    Six inches by ye fall:
Ye knight so weightily got up;
    Could not get up at all.
But Sam-u-el did not haste away,
    For he had cut a stick
Four times as long as his right arm,
    And e'en a'most as thick.
Then, though ye knight was well dressed up
    Ye farmer dressed him down.
He made ye knight so black-and-blue,
    He was quite done up brown.
"Ye picked this bed", quoth Sam-u-el,
    "Methinks I'll let thee lie;
Thy lying once will be grim truth.
    Sweet dreams, fair Sir! Good-bye!"
Ye knight, so sorely taken in,
    Would fain be taken out.
"I stick at this!", in wrath he cried,
    And loud for help did shout.
And eke he sware a mighty vow,
    "Great fishing hooks ye bet,
By my best Sunday garter-strings,
    I'll beat ye plow-man yet!"
His hair it stood straight up with rage,
    His lips were white with foam;
He sware to go that night and burn
    Sam-u-el's humble home.

Above ye deep and darksome dell
    Beneath ye gloomy wood,
Ye wind it howled a dismal strain,
    Ye knight he howled for blood.
But as he stole along, a bull
    Espied ye lantern dim,
And whilst he hunted Sam-u-el,
    Ye bull it hunted him!
When it flew in ye light flew out;
    Ye knight flew with a cry;
His coat-tails they flew out behind;
    His legs how they did fly!
Ye stove-pipes flew; ye stove-lids too;
    Ye weapons went to pot;
Sir Mose arose uopn his toes:
    He just got up and got!
With those great horns, three cloth-yards long,
    A whistling in ye wind,
So on ye knight sped, like some cur
    With a tin can behind.
For e'en a'most two miles he fled;
    And nigh tuckered out was he,
When out of danger's way he clomb
    Into an apple tree.
Whereon he hung a-shivering
    And shrieking at ye beast,
'Till Sam-u-el came out to work,
    When day dawned in ye East.
Forsooth, Sam-u-el's rage waxed hot;
    And loud he 'gan to laugh:
"To judge by thy companion, Sir,
    Thou art a bawling calf.
For men are known, I trow sir, by
    Ye company they keep -
Though only chickens roost in trees
    Whilst honest people sleep!"
Sir Mose yelled fiercely; but quite weak
    From hanging all ye night.
He fell upon ye bull which tossed
    Him clean up out of sight!

Then up got bold young Sam-u-el
    And galloped down ye lane,
Unto his true-love's window-ledge,
    And tapped upon ye pane.
"Come forth sweet-heart; my love thou art!
    Come forth and hie away!
Thou'lt married be, dear girl, to me,
    Before high noon this day.
Sweet Albacinda, fly with me,
    And rule ye vast concerns,
Held safe in trust for bold Sir Mose,
    (If ever he returns)!"
Now gallop, gallop gallient horse!
    Now gallop with thy prize!
And hurl ye clay in chunks away
    As big as apple pies!
Fly down ye road, around ye hill,
    Up to ye castle door;
Across ye trembling drawbridge fly
    Up to ye banquet floor!
Quick, call ye grey-haired friar in
    From out his gloomy cell,
To tie these two young true-loves tight;
    Ring out ye marriage bell!
Ring "Jingle, jangle, jangle jing!"
    Ring "Fol-de-riddle-lay!"
Bold Sam-u-el has won his bride
    For ever and a day!
Go, bid ye foolish father
    To forget his angry pride,
Accept his new-made son-in-law,
    And bless ye bonny bride.