And she replies:

What ho, my stranger, sweet and kind
Over repasted with drink so fine
That he now leaves the Tavern here
And maidens weeping in their beer
And sweet young minstrel made of stone
From whom no woman now could hone
Twa words of love requite or no
Stands now without in falling snow
Ye gods if there be justice here
Send soothing music to mine ear
And calm the raging heart within
And save it from all mortal sin
By leaving I doth recognize
The pain of silence 'twain the prize
Of having two such songsters dwell
Within the realm of hill and dale
But lo' what sound do cometh close
Tis the sound of mudcat boast
What frolick to my ears bestow
Of laughing kats with spaws in tow
Oh happy day, geraw, geree
I see a future bright for me
An end has come to lonesome days
Beginnings bright in Mudcat Days!