Lletres: Show Of Hands. Reynardine.

One evening as I rambled among the springing thyme
I overheard a young woman converse with Reynardine
Her hair was black her eyes were blue her lips were ruby wine
And he smiled as he looked upon them
Did the sly bold Reynardine

She said young man be civil my company forsake
For to my own opinion I fear you are some rake
Oh no I am no rake he cries brought up in Venus train
But I'm searching for concealment all from the judge's men
Says Reynardine

Her rosy cheeks and ruby lips they lost their former dye
As she fell into his arms then all on the mountain side
They had not kissed but once or twice when she came to again
And so modestly she asked him oh pray tell me your name

If by chance you look for me by chance you'll not me find
For I'll be in my green astle enquire for Reynardine
Day and night she followed him his teeth so white did shine
And he led her over the mountains
Did the sly bold Reynardine