The morrow was May, and on the green
They’d lit the fire of Beltan E’en,
And danced around, and piled it high
With peat and heather and pine-logs dry.
A piper played a lightsome reel,
And timed the dance with toe and heel;
While wives looked on, as lad and lass
Trod it merrily o’er the grass.
And Jessie (fickle and fair was she)
Sat with Evan beneath a tree,