While we lie tumbling in the hay.
I have served Prince Florizel and in my time wore three-pile;
but now I am out of service:
15
But shall I go mourn for that, my dear?
The pale moon shines by night:
And when I wander here and there,
I then do [most go] right.
If tinkers may have leave to live,
And bear the [sow-skin budget,]