Jess and Jill are pretty girls, Plump and well to do, In a cloud of windy curls: Yet I know who Loves me more than curls or pearls. I'm not pretty, not a bit-- Thin and sallow-pale; When I trudge along the street I don't need a veil: Yet I have one fancy hit. 10 Jess and Jill can trill and sing With a flute-like voice, Dance as light as bird on wing, Laugh for careless joys: Yet it's I who wear the ring. Jess and Jill will mate some day, Surely, surely: Ripen on to June through May, While the sun shines make their hay, Slacken steps demurely: 20 Yet even there I lead the way. BEAUTY IS VAIN While roses are so red, While lilies are so white, Shall a woman exalt her face Because it gives delight? She's not so sweet as a rose, A lily's straighter than she, And if she were as red or white She'd be but one of three. Whether she flush in love's summer Or in its winter grow pale, 10 Whether she flaunt her beauty Or hide it away in a veil, Be she red or white, And stand she erect or bowed, Time will win the race he runs with her And hide her away in a shroud. LADY MAGGIE You must not call me Maggie, you must not call me Dear, For I'm Lady of the Manor now stately to see; And if there comes a babe, as there may some happy year, 'Twill be little lord or lady at my knee. Oh, but what ails you, my sailor cousin Phil, That you shake and turn white like a cockcrow ghost? You're as white as I turned once down by the mill, When one told me you and ship and crew were lost: Philip my playfellow, when we were boy and girl (It was the Miller's Nancy told it to me), 10 Philip with the merry life in lip and curl, Philip my playfellow drowned in the sea! I thought I should have fainted, but I did not faint; I stood stunned at the moment, scarcely sad, Till I raised my wail of desolate complaint For you, my cousin, brother, all I had. They said I looked so pale--some say so fair-- My lord stopped in passing to soothe me back to life: I know I missed a ringlet from my hair Next morning; and now I am his wife. 20 Look at my gown, Philip, and look at my ring, I'm all crimson and gold from top to toe: All day long I sit in the sun and sing, Where in the sun red roses blush and blow. And I'm the rose of roses says my lord; And to him I'm more than the sun in the sky, While I hold him fast with the golden cord Of a curl, with the eyelash of an eye. His mother said 'fie,' and his sisters cried 'shame,' His highborn ladies cried 'shame' from their place: 30 They said 'fie' when they only heard my name, But fell silent when they saw my face.