His haukes they flie so eagerly,
There’s no fowle dare him come nie.
Downe there comes a fallow doe
As great with yong as she might goe.
She lift up his bloudy hed,
And kist his wounds that were so red.
She gat him up upon her backe,
And carried him to earthen lake.
She buried him before the prime;
She was dead herselfe ere even-song time.