Some foreign country for to see.
His goblets brimmed with every costly wine,
And all that mote to luxury invite.
Without a sigh he left to cross the brine,
And traverse Paynim shores, and pass earth's central line.
Childe Harold, Canto I.
This Turk he had, &c.
And every holth she drunk unto him
Vos, "I vish Lord Bateman as you vos mine!"
I vish Lord Bateman as you vos mine!