Lovely Joan by John Francis Flynn Lyrics

A fine young man it was indeed
Mounted on his milk-white steed
He rode, he rode, himself all alone
Until he came to lovely Joan

"Good morning to you, my pretty little maid"
"And twice good morning, sir," she said
He gave her the wink, she rolled her eyes
Said he to himself, "I'll be there by and by"

"Don't you think there pooks of hay
A pretty little place for us to play?
Follow me like a sweet young thing
And I'll give you my golden ring"

He's taken off his ring of gold
"My pretty little miss, do this behold
I'd freely give it for your maidenhead"
Her cheeks, they blushed like roses red

"Give me the ring into my hand
And I will neither stay nor stand
It would do more good to me
Than twenty maidenheads," said she
But as he made for the pooks of hay
She leapt on his horse and tore away
He called, he called, but all in vain
Young Joan, she never looked back again

She did not think herself quite safe
Until she reached her true love's gate
She robbed the lord of his horse and his ring
And left him to rage in the meadows green