Ye gave me your broken meat
And of your lees o' wine,
That I should sit and sing for you
All at your banquet fine.

Ye gave me shelter from the storm
And straw to make my bed,
And let me sleep through the wild night
With cattle in the shed.

Ye know not from what lordly feast
Hither I come this night,
Nor to what lodging with the stars
From hence I take my flight.

But there's such wine that warms my blood
As yet you never knew,
So that I heed not wet nor cold,
Nor rags the winds blow through.

If I might sing the song I heard
Ere I came to your door,
Ye should set down the brimming cup
Nor heed the banquet more.

Ye may not hear the songs I hear,
Nor share the feast o' mine,
To whom ye gave your broken meat
And of your lees o' wine.