As I sat down by Saddle Stream
To bathe my dusty feet there
A boy was standing on the bridge
Any girl would meet there

As I went over Woody Knob
And dipped into the Hollow
A youth was coming up the hill
Any maid would follow

Then in I turned at my own gate, -
And nothing to be sad for -
To such a man as any wife
Would pass a pretty lad for