Come ye nice maidens, come hither to hur,
Buy if it please ye some laces and rippons;
If to your back you your palate prefer,
Here's leeks bred in Wales, now, and Hereford pippins.
Ne'er sold I better in all my porn days;
Handsome young men, and beautiful misses;
Buy, then, some garters, or laces for stays,
Buy them for two-pence, and sell them for kisses.

What, nopoty puys, now! O splutter and nails,
The ugly curs'd crew would let Watkyn be starving!
And is it for this that hur pin'd up her tails,
And trudg'd from Dolgelly, and round by Caernarvon?
Watkyn ap Williams, it makes thy blood boil,
Hur blood, the pure blood, too, of noble Llewellyn!
Here has hur travell'd, with trouble and toil,
To a fair, pless her poty! where nothing is selling.