Strike it up, Tabor
And pipe us a favour,
Thou shalt be well paid for thy labour.
I mean to spend my shoe-soul
To dance about the Maypole,
I will be blithe and brisk,
Leap and skip, hop and trip,
Turn about in the rout
Until very weary joints can scarce frisk.

Lusty Dick Hopkin
Lay on with thy napkin.
The stitching cost me but a dodkin.
The Morris were half undone
were't not for Martin of Compton.
O, well, said jigging Alce.
Pretty Jill, stand you still,
Dapper Jack means to smack.
How now, fie fie fie, you dance false.