The return from town

As I sat down by Saddle Stream

To bathe my dusty feet there,

A boy was standing on the bridge

Any girl would meet there.

As I went over Woody Knob

And dipped into the Hollow,

A youth was coming up the hill

Any maid would follow.

Then in I turned at my own gate, -

And nothing to be sad for -

To such a man as any wife

Would pass a pretty lad for.