Here you will find the Poem Epistle No. 36 of poet Carl Michael Bellman
Our Ulla lay one morning and slept, A hand beneath her ear; Her key alone the taverner kept Or through its hole might peer. Outside in the tavern, sir, All was nocturnally quiet; Beer was none, nor, I'll aver, Scarce water to supply it. On tip-toes He comes and goes About her bedside, brothers; Lifts a bit Of coverlet, And whispers with the others. Ulla quivers, Snores and shivers, O'er her head the blanket piles; Snuggles under, With a thunder; Turns about and smiles.