Heigh-ho!

 He. Of Arion, of Arion That wound thou shalt learn; What nothings 'tis made of, And soft pretty soothings In shade of the fern. 

That wound thou shalt learn;

What nothings 'tis made of,

And soft pretty soothings

In shade of the fern.

 She. When maids have a mind to, Man's word they rely on, Old warning are blind to-- I come, then—I come To walk with Arion Where green woods are dumb! II  

Man's word they rely on,

Old warning are blind to--

I come, then—I come

To walk with Arion

Where green woods are dumb!

II

He. Dear my love, and O my love, And O my love so lately! Did we wander yonder grove And sit awhile sedately? For either you did there conclude To do at length as I did, Or passion's fashion's turn'd a prude, And troth's an oath derided. 

And O my love so lately!

Did we wander yonder grove

And sit awhile sedately?

For either you did there conclude

To do at length as I did,

Or passion's fashion's turn'd a prude,

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