One evening as I rambled amongst the springing thyme
I overheard a young woman conversing with Reynardine

And her hair was black and her eyes were blue, her mouth as red as wine
And he smiled as he looked upon her, did this sly bold Reynardine

And she says, “Young man, be civil, my company forsake
For to my good opinion I fear you are a rake”

And he said, “My dear, well I am no rake brought up in Venus' train
But I'm searching for concealment all from thе judge's men”

And her chеrry cheeks and her ruby lips they lost their former dye
And she's fell into his arms there all on the mountain high

And they hadn't kissed but once or twice till she came to again
And it's modestly she asked him, “Pray tell to me your name”

“Well, if by chance you ask for me, perhaps you'll not me find
I'll be in my green castle, enquire for Reynardine”

And it's day and night she followed him his, teeth so bright did shine
And he led her over the mountain, did the sly bold Reynardine