p. 142

Dame Jeannette had not that gold-brown hair, Old Jeannette was not a maiden fair.

O ’t is none of our kith and none of our kin, (Her soul may our Lady assoil from sin!)

But I hear the boy’s voice chaunting sweet, ‘Elle est morte, la Marguerite.’

Come in, my son, and lie on the bed, And let the dead folk bury their dead.

O mother, you know I loved her true: O mother, hath one grave room for two?

p. 143THE DOLE OF THE KING’S DAUGHTER

p. 143

(BRETON)

BRETON

Seven stars in the still water, And seven in the sky; Seven sins on the King’s daughter, Deep in her soul to lie.

Seven

Red roses are at her feet,  (Roses are red in her red-gold hair) And O where her bosom and girdle meet Red roses are hidden there.

Fair is the knight who lieth slain Amid the rush and reed, See the lean fishes that are fain Upon dead men to feed.

Sweet is the page that lieth there,  (Cloth of gold is goodly prey,) See the black ravens in the air, Black, O black as the night are they.

p. 144What do they there so stark and dead?  (There is blood upon her hand) Why are the lilies flecked with red?  (There is blood on the river sand.)

p. 144

There are two that ride from the south and east, And two from the north and west, For the black raven a goodly feast, For the King’s daughter rest.

There is one man who loves her true,  (Red, O red, is the stain of gore!) He hath duggen a grave by the darksome yew,  (One grave will do for four.)

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