| ‘Never shall a young man, |
| Thrown into despair |
| By those great honey-coloured |
| Ramparts at your ear, |
| Love you for yourself alone |
| And not your yellow hair.’ |
| ‘But I can get a hair-dye |
| And set such colour there, |
| Brown, or black, or carrot, |
| That young men in despair |
| May love me for myself alone |
| And not my yellow hair.’ |
| ‘I heard an old religious man |
| But yesternight declare |
| That he had found a text to prove |
| That only God, my dear, |
| Could love you for yourself alone |
| And not your yellow hair.’ |