Burr, burr—­now Johnny’s lips they burr. 
  As loud as any mill, or near it;
  Meek as a lamb the Pony moves,
  And Johnny makes the noise he loves, 100
  And Betty listens, glad to hear it.

  Away she hies to Susan Gale: 
  Her Messenger’s in merry tune; [9]
  The owlets hoot, the owlets curr,
  And Johnny’s lips they burr, burr, burr, 105
  As [10] on he goes beneath the moon.

  His steed and he right well agree;
  For of this Pony there’s a rumour,
  That, should he lose his eyes and ears,
  And should he live a thousand years, 110
  He never will be out of humour.

  But then he is a horse that thinks! 
  And when he thinks, his pace is slack;
  Now, though he knows poor Johnny well,
  Yet, for his life, he cannot tell 115
  What he has got upon his back.

  So through the moonlight lanes they go,
  And far into the moonlight dale,
  And by the church, and o’er the down,
  To bring a Doctor from the town, 120
  To comfort poor old Susan Gale.

  And Betty, now at Susan’s side,
  Is in the middle of her story,
  What speedy help her Boy will bring, [11]
  With many a most diverting thing, 125
  Of Johnny’s wit, and Johnny’s glory.

  And Betty, still at Susan’s side,
  By this time is not quite so flurried:  [12]
  Demure with porringer and plate
  She sits, as if in Susan’s fate 130
  Her life and soul were buried.

  But Betty, poor good woman! she,
  You plainly in her face may read it,
  Could lend out of that moment’s store
  Five years of happiness or more 135
  To any that might need it.

  But yet I guess that now and then
  With Betty all was not so well;
  And to the road she turns her ears,
  And thence full many a sound she hears, 140
  Which she to Susan will not tell.

  Poor Susan moans, poor Susan groans;
  “As sure as there’s a moon in heaven,”
  Cries Betty, “he’ll be back again;
  They’ll both be here—­’tis almost ten—­ 145
  Both will be [13] here before eleven.”

  Poor Susan moans, poor Susan groans;
  The clock gives warning for eleven;
  ’Tis on the stroke—­“He must be near,”
  Quoth Betty, “and will soon be here, [14] 150
  As sure as there’s a moon in heaven.”

  The clock is on the stroke of twelve,
  And Johnny is not yet in sight: 
 —­The Moon’s in heaven, as Betty sees,
  But Betty is not quite at ease; 155
  And Susan has a dreadful night.

  And Betty, half an hour ago,
  On Johnny vile reflections cast: 
  “A little idle sauntering Thing!”
  With other names, an endless string; 160
  But now that time is gone and past.