We chaunt our moon-lighte minstrelsies.
When larkes gin singe,
Away we flinge;
And babes new-born steale as we go,
And shoes in bed
We leave instead,
And wend us laughing ho, ho, ho!
From hag-bred Merlin’s time have I
Thus nightly revell’d to and fro:
And for my prankes, men call me by