"Come hither, come hither, thou fine fellow,
Hold up thy head again;
I've that within my leather bottel,
That shall not breed thee pain."
Then the Captain took little John by the hand,
And they sat them under the tree;
"If we drink water while this doth last,
Then an ill death may we dee."
Then little John he rose up once more,
Renewed with mirth and glee;
And eke with a bound, he danced a round,
In sight of that companie.
These fine fellows all, did then take hands,
And danced about the green tree;
"For six merry men, for seven merry men,
For nine merry men we be."
Then on they walked the rocks among,
All on a midsummer day;
Every youth with a maiden by his side,
While the birds sang from each spray.
With kirtle tucked up to the knee,
The maidens far did go;
And Bob the tall to each and all,
Great courtesie did show.
Some plucked the green leaf, some the rose,
As to Kinder-Scout they sped;
Or wiled away the sweet summer's day,
At lovely Derwent-Head.
And some did shout, and some did sing,
With the heart so blithe and merry;
And some adown the hill did roll,
With a hey derry down, down derry.
And ever and anon they'd sit,
On a mossy bank to rest;
While the bag and the whiskey glass went round,
With the ringing glass and jest.
Then some among the heather strayed,
Springing the bonny Moor-hen;
And some did climb the green hills' side,
Or roam in the tangled glen.