To make you of a prison shy.
At twelve o’clock the turnkey come;
The locks and bolts sound like a drum,
If you be ever so full of game,
The traädin’ mill it will you tame.
At one you mount the mill again,
That is labour all in vain.
If that be ever so wrong or right,
You must traäde till six at night.
Thursdays we have a jubal fraä