The traveller hears him, away! away!
Over the wide, wide heath he scurries;
He heeds not the thunderbolt summons to stay,
But ever the faster and faster he hurries,
But what daisy-cutter can match that black tit? [7]
He is caught--he must 'stand and deliver';
Then out with the dummy, and off with the bit, [8]
Oh! the game of high-toby for ever!
_Chorus_.
Then who can name
So merry a game
As the game of all games--high-toby?