He lifts a well-turned wrist
Above their dismal heads;
He sings a tune and in their midst
His song puts them to bed.
       And there he goes, a-laughing
Across the meadows clear,
Among the forests old,
He travels where and there and here
For years and years untold.
       And there he goes, a-laughing
Once he found a Lady,
In river-water clad;
Under boughs and willows shady
The best of lives they had.
       And there they go, a-laughing