Let her be young, or let her be old,
It is the price, she must be sold,
Either for silver or for gold.
So fare you well, my lady gay,
For I must turn another way.

Turn back, turn back, you Spanish knight,
And rub your spurs till they be bright.

My spurs they are of a costliest wrought,
And in this town they were not bought,
Nor in this town they won’t be sold,
Neither for silver, nor for gold.
So fare you well, my lady gay,
For I must turn another way.

Through the kitchen, and through the hall,
And take the fairest of them all;
The fairest is, as I can see,
Pretty Jane—come here to me.

Now I’ve got my pretty fair maid,
Now I’ve got my pretty fair maid,
To dance along with me,
To dance along with me!

—Eccleshall, Halliwell’s Nursery Rhymes, p. 222.

II.

Here comes three lords dressed all in green,
For the sake of your daughter Jane.

My daughter Jane, she is so young,
She learns to talk with a flattering tongue.

Let her be young, or let her be old,
For her beauty she must be sold.