CONTENTIONS
It was a lordling's daughter, the fairest one of three,
That liked of her master as well as well might be;
Till looking on an Englishman, the fair'st that eye could see
Her fancy fell a-turning.
Long was the combat doubtful that love with love did fight,
To leave the master loveless, or kill the gallant knight:
To put in practice either, alas! it was a spite
Unto the silly damsel.
But one must be refused: more mickle was the pain,
That nothing could be used to turn them both to gain;
For of the two the trusty knight was wounded with disdain:
Alas! she could not help it.
Thus art with arms contending was victor of the day,
Which by a gift of learning did bear the maid away;
Then lullaby, the learned man hath got the lady gays
For now my song is ended.
Unknown