Every moment she seeks the door,
—Mercy, how the torrents pour!
If I had store of money red,
I know the husband I would wed.
I'd wed the heir of a good house,
Who can reap the fields he ploughs.
Who can reap the fields he ploughs,
And in his stable has good cows.
Both night and day whom I can see,
And who will sleep by the side of me.