and let my fancy play—
A-skipping o’er the fields once more,
amongst the ricks of hay.
Oh, here they come! there’s Joe and Dan!
and May, and Kate, and Min.!
The old swing gate flies open wide
to let the rompers in:
For I am friends with all the lot,
and trusty chums are they,
And all a-troop for hide-a-hoop