He kissed her three times o'er;
He kissed her brow, he kissed her eyes,
He kissed her mouth's red flower.
"O Love, what is it ails thy knight?
I sicken and I pine;
Is it the red wine or the white,
Or that sweet kiss of thine?"
"No kiss, no wine or white or red,
Can make such sickness be,
Lie down and die on thy bride-bed