Launching from shore to shore.

Grey game, and Grouse in num’rous broods,

About Greenlighton Hill;

Where piping Pan his flocks he feeds,

Around that humble vill.

By dawn of day, Mary and Bett,

Hies to the birney knows;

Where blithsome many a morn we’ve met,

At milking of the ewes.

By Maria’s mean courtesy taught,