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What revell rout
Is kept about,
In every corner where I go,
I will o'er see,
And merry bee,
And make good sport, with ho, ho, ho!

More swift than lightning can I flye
About this aery welkin soone,
And, in a minute's space, descrye
Each thing that's done belowe the moone.
There's not a hag
Or ghost shall wag,
Or cry, " 'Ware Goblins! where I go;"
But Robin I
Their feates will spy,
And send them home, with ho, ho, ho!

Where'er such wanderers I meete,
As from their night-sports they trudge home:
With counterfeiting voice I greete
And call them on, with me to roame
Thro' woods, thro' lakes,
Thro' bogs, thro' brakes;
Or else, unseene, with them I go,
All in the nicke
To play some tricke
And frolicke it, with ho, ho, ho!

Sometimes I meete them like a man;
Sometimes, an ox; sometimes, a hound;
And to a horse I turn me can;
To trip and trot about them round.
But if, to ride,
My backe they stride,
More swift than wind away I go,