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Before I ly into your bed,
Either at stock, or wa'.

What is greener than the grass?
What's higher than the trees?
And what is worse than women’s voice?
What’s deeper than the seas?
A sparrow's horn, and priest unborn,
This night to join us twa;
Before I ly into your bed,
Either at stock or wa’.

Death is greener than the grass,
Sky’s higher than the trees;
The devil’s worse than women’s voice,
Hell’s deeper than the seas:
A sparrow’s horn you may well get,
There’s one on every pa’;
And twa upon the gap of it,
And thou shalt have them a’.

The Priest’s standing at the gate,
Just ready to come in;
No man can say that he was born,
No man without a sin;
A hole cut in his mother’s side,
He from the same did fa’;
So we shall both ly in ae bed,
And thou’s ly next the wa'.