Then will you come to Banbury Cross."
The white horse arched his slender neck,
Silver bells are ringing;
Snow-white he was without a speck,
Silver bells are ringing.
An old wife held his bridle-rein,
(The king was there with all his train),
Her gray hair fluttered in the wind,
Her gaze turned inward on her mind;
And not one face seemed she to see