All those dreadful thunder-stones，

    All that storm that blots¹ the day

    Can but show that Heaven yawns；

    Great Europa played the fool

    That changed a lover for a bull.

    Fol de rol， fol de rol.

    To round that shell‘s elaborate whorl，

    Adorning² every secret track

    With the delicate mother-of- pearl，

    Made the joints³ of Heaven crack：

    So never hang your heart upon

    A roaring， ranting⁴ journeyman.

    Fol de rol， fol de rol.