Blithe little maid with lifted lips,

Red as a bunch of holly,

What! May I hold your finger tips,

Dear little sweetheart, Folly?

List to a whisper in your ear,

Pink little ear, dear Folly,

While you were gone some one was here,

The Lady Melancholy.

Yes, and she sat in your old place,

This Lady Melancholy.

Ah, well! but she had a lovely face,

Sweet as your face, sweet Folly.