Beneath the moon that shines so bright,
Till she is tired, let Betty Foy
With girt and stirrup fiddle-faddle;
But wherefore set upon a saddle
Him whom she loves, her idiot boy?

[return]

[Variant 3:]

1836
There's scarce a soul that's out of bed;1798

There's scarce a soul that's out of bed;

[return]

[Variant 4:]

Inserted in the editions 1798 to 1820.

The world will say 'tis very idle,
Bethink you of the time of night;
There's not a mother, no not one,
But when she hears what you have done,
Oh! Betty she'll be in a fright.

[return]