Wall-flowers, wall-flowers, growing up so high,
We are all living, and we shall all die.
Except the youngest here [naming her].
Turn your back to overshed. (?)
(This last line is repeated three times.)
—Symondsbury, Dorset (Folk-lore Journal, vii. 215).
Wall-flowers, wall-flowers, growing up so high!
We shall all be maidens, [and so] we shall all die![13]
Excepting Alice Gittins, she is the youngest flower,
She can hop, and she can skip, and she can play the hour!
Three and four, and four and five,
Turn your back to the wall-side!
Or,
She can dance and she can sing,
She can play on the tambourine!
Fie, fie! fie, for shame!
Turn your back upon the game!
—Ellesmere, Berrington, Wenlock (Shropshire Folk-lore, p. 513).