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Strike it up, Tabor,
And pipe us a favour!
Thou shalt be well-paid for thy labour.
I mean to spend my shoe-sole
To dance about the may-pole!
I will be blithe and brisk,
Leap and skip,
Hop and trip,
In the rout,
Until the weary joints can scarce frisk!
Lusty Dick Hopkin,
Lay on with thy napkin,
The stitching cost me but a dodkin.
The morris were half undone
Were’t not for Martin of Compton.
O well said, jigging A’lce!
Stand you still!
Means to smack.
How now? Fie, fie! You dance false.
|Style:||Classical (View more Classical Music)|
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