She exchanges her fine silk gown,
She washes off her white face-powder:
She spurs her horse to the army tents,
With fervent sighs, takes sword in hand.

Mulan has kilted her silk kirtle
a little aboon her knee,
and she has broded her ink-black hair
a little aboon her bree,
and she's awa to the army front
as fast as she can hie.

. . . if I wind up writing a Mulan/Tam Lin mashup someday, I'm blaming you.