I’ll make a garland of thy hair
Shall bind my heart for evermair
Until the day I die.
Oh that I were where Helen lies! 25
Night and day on me she cries;
Out of my bed she bids me rise,
Says, ‘Haste and come to me!’
O Helen fair! O Helen chaste!
If I were with thee, I were blest, 30
Where thou lies low and takes thy rest