O, lassie, art thou sleepen'd, or are ye woken?
I would wet for more, as bond be hand and foot,
and I would fain be angel.
O, let me in this inn, mecht,
I'll ne'er come back again, Joe.
The necht, it is, is cold and white,
the morn, it will be snow and sleet.
My skin hath frozen till my feet,
we standen on the plain, Joe.
O, let me in this inn, mecht,
I'll ne'er come back again, Joe.
