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SWEET cyder is a great thing, / A great thing to me, / Spinning down to Weymouth town / By Ridgway thirstily, / And maid and mistress summoning / Who tend the hostelry: / O cyder is a great thing, / A great thing to me!
The dance it is a great thing, / A great thing to me, / With candles lit and partners fit / For night-long revelry; / And going home when day-dawning / Peeps pale upon the lea: / O dancing is a great thing, / A great thing to me!
Love is, yea, a great thing, / A great thing to me, / When, having drawn across the lawn / In darkness silently, / A figure flits like one a-wing / Out from the nearest tree: / O love is, yes, a great thing, / A great thing to me!
Will these be always great things, / Great things to me? . / Let it befall that One will call, / "Soul, I have need of thee: " / What then? Joy-jaunts, impassioned flings, / Love, and its ecstasy, / Will always have been great things, / Great things to me!