On an evening of bleak winter chill
A lone knight rode to Bartonleigh Hill

Stationed there was his maiden cute
Plucking the strings of an out of tune lute

As she plucked the rats did cry
Never had they heard such a rumpus lullaby

Upon her door a knocker knocked
It was the lone knight minus his left sock

Oh! she said your foot looks blue
Come warm it in the embers shoe

He did as she requested him to do
Whereupon a marriage proposal ensued