A pretty duck there was that said

A pretty duck there was that said,

To whom shall I make moan?

I have been long a pretty maid,

And yet I lie alone.

Alone I lie in deep despair,

Which kills my lovely heart,

For none will my sweet joys repair,

Or play a lover's part.

A tickling part that maidens love,

But I can never get,

Yet long have sought, and still do crave,

At rest my heart to set.