II. Queen Anne, Queen Anne, who sits on her throne, As fair as a lily, as white as a swan; The king sends you three letters, And begs you’ll read one. I cannot read one unless I read all, So pray (    ) deliver the ball. The ball is mine and none of thine, So you, proud Queen, may sit on your throne, While we, your messengers, go and come. (Or sometimes)— The ball is mine, and none of thine, You are the fair lady to sit on; And we’re the black gipsies to go and come. —Halliwell’s _Pop. Rhymes_, p. 230. III. 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, So pray, Miss or Master, throw up the ball. —Halliwell’s _Pop. Rhymes_, p. 64. IV. Here we come a-piping, First in spring and then in May. The Queen she sits upon the sand, Fair as a lily, white as a wand: King John has sent you letters three, And begs you’ll read them unto me. We can’t read one without them all, So pray, Miss Bridget, deliver the ball. —Halliwell’s _Pop. Rhymes_, p. 73. V. Queen Anne, Queen Anne, She sot in the sun; So fair as a lily, So white as a nun; She had a white glove on, She drew it off, she drew it on. Turn, ladies, turn. The more we turn, the more we may, Queen Anne was born on Midsummer Day; We have brought dree letters from the Queen, Wone of these only by thee must be seen. We can’t rëade wone, we must rëade all, Please (    ) deliver the ball. —Dorsetshire (_Folk-lore Journal_, vii. 229). VI. Here come we to Lady Queen Anne, With a pair of white gloves to cover our hand; As white as a lily, as fair as the rose, But not so fair as you may suppose. Turn, ladies, turn. The more we turn the more we may, Queen Anne was born on Midsummer Day. The king sent me three letters, I never read them all, So pray, Miss ——, deliver the ball. The ball is yours, and not ours, You must go to the garden and gather the flowers. The ball is ours, and not yours, We go out and gather the flowers. —Cornwall (_Folk-lore Journal_, v. 52-53). VII. Queen Anne, Queen Anne, she sits in the sun, As fair as a lily, so white and wan; A pair of kid gloves she holds in her hand, There’s no such a lady in all the fair land. Turn all.