who art thou, fair one, who usurp’st the place

of blanche, the lady of the matchless grace?

come, fair and pretty, tell to me

who, in thy life-time, thou might’st be.

thou pretty art and fair,

but with the lady blanche thou never must compare.

no need for blanche her history to tell;

whoever saw her face, they there did read it well.

but when i look on thee, i only know

there lived a pretty maid some hundred years ago.