“A lord’s lady is dead,” an old woman said,
“And some call her Lady Nancy-cy-cy,
And some call her Lady Nancy.”
So he ordered the grave to be opened wide,
And the shroud to be turned down;
And there he kissed her clay-cold lips,
Till the tears came trickling down, down, down,
Till the tears came trickling down.
Lady Nancy she died as it might be to-day,
Lord Lovel he died as to-morrow;