Grind my lady's flour,
Put it in a chesnut,
Let it stand an hour;
One may rush, two may rush,
Come, my girls, walk under the bush.
CCLXXXIX.
Queen Anne, queen Anne, you sit in the sun,
As fair as a lily, as white as a wand.
I send you three letters, and pray read one,
You must read one, if you can't read all,