That now've his horns so thin, O,
We'll leäve off walkèn in the leäne,
While night's a zettèn in, O.
When zummer doust is all a-laid
Below our litty shoes, O;
When all the raïn-chill'd flow'rs be dead,
That now do drink the dews, O;
When beauty's neck, that's now a-show'd,
'S a-muffled to the chin, O;
We'll leäve off walkèn in the road,