Now what is this, my daughter dear,
Upon thy cheek so fair?
'Tis but a kiss, my mother dear,
Kind fortune sent it there;
It was a courteous stranger-man
That gave it unto me,
And it is passing red, because
It was the last of three.

A kiss, indeed, my daughter dear!
I marvel in surprise!
Such conduct with a stranger-man,
I fear me, was not wise.
Me-thought the same, my mother dear,
And so at three forbore,
Although the courteous stranger-man 
Vowed he had many more.

Now prithee, daughter, quickly go
And bring the stranger here,
And bid him hie and bid him fly
To me, my daughter dear;
For times be very, very hard,
And blessings eke so rare,
I fain would meet a stranger-man
That hath a kiss to spare.