With dancing and jumping and leaps by the sea?
For wintry weather
They won't hold together,
Seal-skins and bear-skins all dropping round,
Off from our shoulders down to the ground.
The thorns, the tiresome thorns, will prick,
But none of them ever consented to stick!
Oh, won't the men let us this new thing use?
If we mend their clothes, they can't refuse.
Ah, to sew up a seam for them to see,—