Both child and nurse are fast asleep,
And clos’d is every flower,
And waking tapers faintly peep
High from my lady’s bower;
Bewildered hinds, with shorten’d ken,
Shrink on their murky way,
Uprouse ye, then, my merry men,
It is our op’ning day.
Uprouse ye, then, &c.
Nor board nor garner own we now,