Turn, ladies, turn.
The more we turn, the more we may,
Queen Anne was born on Midsummer Day;
We have brought dree letters from the Queen,
Wone of these only by thee must be seen.
We can’t rëade wone, we must rëade all,
Please ( ) deliver the ball.
—Dorsetshire (Folk-lore Journal, vii. 229).
Here come we to Lady Queen Anne,
With a pair of white gloves to cover our hand;
As white as a lily, as fair as the rose,
But not so fair as you may suppose.
Turn, ladies, turn.
The more we turn the more we may,
Queen Anne was born on Midsummer Day.
The king sent me three letters, I never read them all,
So pray, Miss ——, deliver the ball.
The ball is yours, and not ours,
You must go to the garden and gather the flowers.