My NEXT hath teeth, for ’tis a man,
Or ’tis an herb dried on a pan.
My WHOLE hath no teeth: ’tis no man,
’Tis eaten oft by all his clan.
A maid sat sewing in castle hall,
Near an arching window in the wall;
And again and again her song she rehearsed
As she placed on her lover’s kerchief my FIRST,