1.
Let’s have a dance upon the heath;
We gain more life by Duncan’s death.
Sometimes like brinded cats we show,
Having no music but our mew.
Sometimes we dance in some old mill
Upon the hopper, stones and wheel
To some old saw or bardish rhyme,
Where still the mill-clack does keep time.
2.
Sometime about a hollow tree,
Around, around, around dance we;
Thither the chirping cricket comes,
And beetles singing drowsy hums.
Sometimes we dance o’er fens and furze
To howls of wolves and barks of curs,
And when with none of these we meet,
We dance to the echoes of our feet.