—Halliwell’s Nursery Rhymes, cccxxxiii.
We are three brethren come from Spain,
All in French garlands;
We are come to court your daughter Jean,
And adieu to you, my darlings.
My daughter Jean, 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;
It’s 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.
[There is here a hiatus, the reply of the lovers being wanting.]
Come back, come back, you courteous knights,
All in French garlands;
Clear up your spurs, and make them bright,
And adieu to you, my darlings.
[Another hiatus.]
Smell my lilies, smell my roses,
All in French garlands;
Which of my maidens do you choose?
And adieu to you, my darlings.