"Now when two years had passed away
Her lord took very ill,
And left her to her widowhood,
Of course, more dumpy still.
"Said John, I am a proper man,
And very tall to see,
Who knows, but now her lord is low
She may look up to me?
"'A cunning woman told me once
Such fortune would turn up,
She was a kind of sorceress,
But studied in a cup.'
"So he walked up to Lady Wye,
And took her quite amazed,
She thought though John was tall enough
He wanted to be raised.
"But John--for why? she was a dame
Of such a dwarfish sort--
Had only come to bid her make
Her mourning very short.
"Said he, 'your lord is dead and cold,
You only cry in vain,
Not all the cries of London now,
Could call him back again.
"'You'll soon have many a noble beau,
To dry your noble tears,
But just consider this that I
Have followed you for years.
"'And tho' you are above me far,
What matters high degree,
When you are only four foot nine,
And I am six foot three?
"'For though you are of lofty race,
And I'm a low-born elf,
Yet none among your friends could say,
You matched beneath yourself.'
"Said she, 'such insolence as this
Can be no common case;
Though you are in my service, Sir,
Your love is out of place.
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