Oh My Lord,I visited you whilst you were asleep
I was praying that somehow your life slip
Today I heard what the preacher preached
He said all suitors prepare,the bride has reached

Then here is you My Lord,
Who promised me Silver and Gold
That our son be heir to the throne
And now you throw at me stones

I understand dear Lord
That my touches now leave rashes
And that my kisses leave your lips cracking
But am I still not your Dutchess

Then my Lord,if though can't give me Silver,
Give to me Gold
If though can't make my son King,
Give to me thy throne
Lord Andrew Sir,
If thou can't satisfy my flesh
Feed my bone