And this the burden of his song / For ever used to be, / I care for nobody, not I, / If no one cares for me.

How happy is the sailor’s life, from coast to coast to roam; in every port he finds a wife, in every land a home.

There was a jolly miller once, / Lived on the river Dee; / He worked and sang from morn till night; / No lark more blithe than he.