To hear what my true love had to say,
So that I might know a little of his mind
Before he went away.
I laid my head on the side of his bed,
My arms across his breast;
I made him believe, for the fall of the year,
The sun rose in the west.
‘I’m going away, I’m coming back again,
If it is ten thousand miles;
It’s who will shoe your pretty little feet?