Unto his page he spake, the knight—
“Whose bower is this that burns so bright?
“If my true-love is dead, I say,
God wot, I’ll die the self-same day.”
Against a stone he set his hilt,
And there his heart’s blood hath he spilt.
(We tread the dance so featly.)
AGNES AND THE MERMAN
Agnes she walked on the cliff so steep;
Up came a merman out of the deep.
(Ha, ha, ha!
Up came a merman out of the deep.)
“Hearken now, Agnes, so fair and so fine!
Say, wilt thou come to be true love o’ mine?”
“Yes, good sooth, that will I be—
But how can I dwell in the depths of the sea?”
He has stopped her ears, and stopped her mouth as well;
So he bore her down, all in the sea to dwell.
She dwelt with the merman eight years and more—
Seven fair sons to him she bore.
Agnes she sat by the cradle and sang,
And she heard how the bells of England rang.