Hey, we rose at morning prime;
Ho, we lark'd together!
'Mid roses and larks in our shallop we glide
By Inglesham poplars, on Teddington's tide,
Where the water of Thame under Sinodun slide,
And at Marlow,
By Cliveden's green caverns, and Abingdon's walls,
Where wirgles the Windrush, where Eynsham weir falls,
By Sonning, or Sandford (whose lasher recalls
Mr. Barlow).