A grand man is the prince of Loo,
With person large and high.
Lofty his front and suited to
The fine glance of his eye!
Swift are his feet. In archery
What man with him can vie?
With all these goodly qualities,
We see him and we sigh!
Renowned through all the land is he,
The nephew of our lord.
With clear and lovely eyes, his grace
May not be told by word.
All day at target practice,
He'll never miss the bird.
Such is the prince of Loo, and yet
With grief for him we're stirred!
All grace and beauty he displays,
High forehead and eyes bright.
And dancing choice! His arrows all
The target hit aright.
Straight through they go, and every one
Lights on the self-same spot.
Rebellion he could well withstand,
And yet we mourn his lot!
