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As I walked out one fine spring day,
I met young Jac who was pitching hay,
his hair so fair, and his eyes were too.
Well. I gave him a kiss; oh, what could I do?
We snuggled and we tickled while the sun rose high.
and I won't say how often he made me sigh.
Now Jac gels an hour when the sky is clear,
and Willi gets an hour when my father's not near.
It's the hayloft with Moril for he shows no fear,
and Keilin comes at midday: he's oh so bold!
Brelan gets an evening when the night is cold.
Master Andril gets a morning, but he's very old.
Oh. what, oh what is a poor girl to do?
My loves are so many and the hours so few.