O sweet Marye!
A lilye maid with cheekes all pale,
And garments whyte, and snowy veil,
Shee bitterly did weepe and wail.
O dear Marye!
II.
Sir Bors beheld, and straight hys brest
For pitye 'gainst his hauberke prest.
O sweet Marye!
'Ladye,' quod hee, 'I love thee soe,