As Daphne sat beneath a shade,
To keep her sheep from straying,
It is a pleasing thing she said,
To live without obeying,
It is a pleasing thing she said,
To live without obeying,
To live without obeying.

How pleasant is a single life!
'Tis far beyond expression!
But she, that is become a wife,
Needs pity and compassion.

She bids adieu to all her joy,
When matrimony binds her,
To one, who does his thoughts employ
In striving to confine her.

How pleasant then is liberty,
When none can e'er molest them!
And they are fools, who don't live free
When fortune so has blest them.