I sat in the woods upon grass and moss,
My fiddle lay in my lap
And my bow in the flowers.
I was so utterly alone
And on top of that I was broke,
And love and joy had flown away.

Many things passed through my mind,
Snapping and strumming, my fingers
Gently moved over the strings.
I hardly heard it owing to my moping,
God knows! I even believe there was
A moistness upon my eyelashes.

I had never felt myself to be
So disinclined to all tasks
And I am well travelled.
My marshal was called Mr. Hardship,
My cup-bearer [was called] Bend-Down-to-the Brook,
My head chef [was called] Empty-Cupboard.

The following day at the Wreath of Rue
There was a wedding, feasting, and bridal dance,
There was plenty of fiddling needed.
The girls laughed, no jug remained empty,
My purse was full, my knapsack heavy,
And the world belonged to me once more.