For her hair or bosom, from boughs that hung
Odorous of Heaven and purity;
She thanked me smiling; then merrily sung
This song while she laughingly looked at me:—
"There dwelt a princess over the sea—
Oh fair was she, right fair was she—
Who loved a squire of low degree,
Of low degree,
But wedded a king of Brittany—
Ah, woe is me! is me!