Oh, be ye ware of maidens
And of their fickle glance.
A fickle maiden's glances
Have brought me evil chance;
Her glance of wit bereaved me,
And then her glance deceived me.

She glanced at all and several,
She likewise glanced at me,
She promised she would follow me
On life's road faithfully,
But when another came to her,
She glanced and thought no blame to her.

She'd glance about from side to side
And always nod assent
To each and every village lad
Who came on pleasure bent.
The devil take the glance of her,
The nod and look-askance of her!

And now that we are married
And she is mine, what then?
Each evening she goes out to dance
With all her fancy-men,
While I get many a bang, myself.
I vow I'll go and hang myself.