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 The bears looked hard at Cicely

Because her hair hung wild and free—

"Related to us, miss, you must be!"

Then Cicely, filling two plates of gold

As full of cherries as they could hold,

Walked up to the bears, and spoke out bold:—

"Welcome to you! and to you, Mr. Bear!

Will you take a chair? will you take a chair?

This is an honour, we do declare!"

Sir Hildebrand strode up to see,

Saying, "Who may this maiden be?

Ladies, this is the wife for me!"

Almost before they could understand,

He took up Cicely by the hand,

And danced with her a saraband.

Her hair was as rough as a parlour broom,

It swung, it swirled all round the room—

Those ladies were vexed, we may presume.