COME lasses and lads, get leave of your dads
And away to the maypole hie
For every fair has a sweetheart there
And the fiddler’s standing by
For Willy shall dance with Jane
And Johnny has got his Joan
To trip it, trip it, trip it, trip it
Trip it up and down
To trip it, trip it, trip it, trip it
Trip it up and down.
“You’re out!” says Dick. “Not I!” says Nick
“’Twas the fiddler played it wrong.”
“’Tis true!” says Hugh, and so says Sue
And so says everyone.
The fiddler then began
To play the tune again
And every girl did trip, trip it, trip it to the men
And every girl did trip, trip it, trip it to the men.
“Goodnight!” says Harry. “Goodnight!” says Mary
“Goodnight!” says Paul to John
“Goodnight!” says Sue to her sweetheart, Hugh
“Goodnight!” says everyone.
Some walked and some did run
Some loitered on the way
And bound themselves, by kisses twelve, to meet the next holiday
And bound themselves, by kisses twelve, to meet the next holiday.
|