I whispered， 'I am too young，'

　　And then， 'I am old enough'；

　　Wherefore I threw a penny

　　To find out if I might love.

　　'Go and love， go and love， young man，

　　If the lady be young and fair.'

　　Ah， penny， brown penny， brown penny，

　　I am looped in the loops of her hair.

　　O love is the crooked¹ thing，

　　There is nobody wise enough

　　To find out all that is in it，

　　For he would be thinking of love

　　Till the stars had run away

　　And the shadows eaten the moon.

　　Ah， penny， brown penny， brown penny，

　　One cannot begin it too soon.