In the East so long ago,
The ass first his face did show,
Shapely and fortissimo,
Fit for many a load to tow.
Rise, Sir Ass, arise!
Leaping mules he puts to shame,
Hind and hart shall praise his name,
Camels of the Medes are lame,
Pass'd in swiftness by his fame.
Rise, Sir Ass, arise!
In these hills call�d Sychen,
From suckling below Ruben,
He crosses the fair Jordan,
Ent'ring into Bethlehem.
Rise, Sir Ass, arise!
As he pulls carts down the road,
Many with a heavy load,
In his jaws a fibrous cud
Pulverizes into mud.
Rise, Sir Ass, arise!
Eating barley, he excels,
Bristling thistles chomps as well.
Mark his way with a bushel,
If the wheat from chaff you'd tell.
Rise, Sir Ass, arise!
O Ass, "Amen" is what you say,
Satiated with good hay,
"Amen," "Amen," all the day,
Kicking sins of old away.
Rise, Sir Ass, arise!
Rosamunde's version, with end rhymes. Latin and nonrhyming English translation by Curtis Clark on the Medieval Music Page of The Internet Renaissance Band.
