THREE KNIGHTS FROM SPAIN

We are three Brethren come from Spain,

All in French garlands;

We are come to court your daughter Jane,

And adieu to you, my darlings.

My daughter Jane!—she is too young,

All in French garlands;

She cannot bide your flattering tongue,

And adieu to you, my darlings.

Be she young, or be she old,

All in French garlands;

'Tis for a bride she must be sold,

And adieu to you, my darlings.

A bride, a bride, she shall not be

All in French garlands;

Till she go through this world with me,

And adieu to you, my darlings.

Then shall you keep your daughter Jane,

All in French garlands;

Come once, we come not here again,

And adieu to you, my darlings.

Turn back, turn back, you Spanish Knights,

All in French garlands;

Scour, scour your spurs, till they be bright,

And adieu to you, my darlings.

Sharp shine our spurs, all richly wrought,

All in French garlands;

In towns afar our spurs were bought

And adieu to you, my darlings.

Smell my lilies, smell my roses,

All in French garlands;

Which of my maidens do you choose?

And adieu to you, my darlings.

Not she. Not she. Thy youngest, Jane!

All in French garlands;

We ride—and ride not back again,

And adieu to you, my darlings.

In every pocket a thousand pound,

All in French garlands;

On every finger a gay gold ring,

And adieu to you, my darlings.

And adieu to you, my darlings.

354