There were three jovial Welshmen,
As I have heard men say,
And they would go a-hunting
Upon St David’s Day.
All the day they hunted
And nothing could they find
But a ship a-sailing,
A-sailing with the wind.
One said it was a ship,
The other, he said, “Nay.”
The third said it was a house
With the chimney blown away.
And all the night they hunted
And nothing could they find
But the moon a-gliding,
A-gliding with the wind.
One said it was the moon,
The other, he said, “Nay.”
The third said it was a chees
And half of it cut away.
And all the day they hunted
And nothing could they find
But a hedgehog in a bramble bush
And that they left behind.
The first said it was a hedgehog,
The second, he said, “Nay.”
The third said it was a pincushion
And the pins stuck in wrong way.
And all the night they hunted
And nothing could they find
But a hare in a turnip field
And that they left behind.
The first said it was a hair,
The second, he said, “Nay.”
The third said it was a calf
And the cow had run away.
And all the day they hunted
And nothing could they find
But an owl in a holly tree
And that they left behind.
One said it was an owl,
The other, he said, “Nay.”
The third said it was an old man
And his beard growing grey.
