Go saddle to me the swiftest steed that e’er rid Wallington,
When she came to Wallington, and into Wallington-hall,
There she espy’d her son Fenwick walking about the wall.
God save you, dear son, Lord may your keeper be!
Where is my daughter fair, that used to walk with thee?
He turn’d his head round about, the tears did fill his eye;
’Tis a month, he said, since she took her chambers from me.
She went on, and there were in the hall
Four and twenty ladies letting the tears down fall:
Her daughter had a scope into her chest, and into her chin,