A maiden sat at her window wide,
Pretty enough for a Prince's bride,
Yet nobody came to claim her.
She sat like a beautiful picture there,
With pretty bluebells and roses fair,
And jasmine-leaves to frame her.
And why she sat there nobody knows;
But this she sang as she plucked a rose,
The leaves around her strewing:"I've time to lose and power to choose;'T is not so much the gallant who woos,
But the gallant's
AY of wooing!"A lover came riding by awhile,
A wealthy lover was he, whose
Some maids would value greatly -A formal lover, who bowed and bent,
With many a high-flown compliment,
And cold demeanour stately,"You've still," said she to her suitor stern,"The 'prentice-work of your craft to learn,
If thus you come a-cooing.
I've time to lose and power to choose;'T is not so much the gallant who woos,
As the gallant's
AY of wooing!"A second lover came ambling by -A timid lad with a frightened
And a colour mantling highly.
He muttered the errand on which he'd come,
Then only chuckled and bit his thumb,
And simpered, simpered shyly."No," said the maiden, "go your way;
You dare but think what a man would say,
Yet dare to come a-suing!
I've time to lose and power to choose;'T is not so much the gallant who woos,
As the gallant's
AY of wooing!"A third rode up at a startling pace -A suitor poor, with a homely face -No doubts appeared to bind him.
He kissed her lips and he pressed her waist,
And off he rode with the maiden,
On a pillion safe behind him.
And she heard the suitor bold
This golden hint to the priest who
The knot there's no undoing;
With pretty young maidens who can choose,'T is not so much the gallant who woos,
As the gallant's
AY of wooing!"
