Upon his right hand a gold ring she secured,
Drawn from her own fingers so fair;
That when he awakèd he might be assured
His lady and love had been there.
She left him a posie of pleasant perfume,
Then stepped from the place where he lay,
Then hid herself close in the besom of broom,
To hear what her true love did say.
He wakened and found the gold ring on his hand,
Then sorrow of heart he was in;
‘My love has been here, I do well understand,
And this wager I now shall not win.
‘Oh! where was you, my goodly goshawk,
The which I have purchased so dear,
Why did you not waken me out of my sleep,
When the lady, my love, was here?’
‘O! with my bells did I ring, master,
And eke with my feet did I run;
And still did I cry, pray awake! master,
She’s here now, and soon will be gone.’
‘O! where was you, my gallant greyhound,
Whose collar is flourished with gold;
Why hadst thou not wakened me out of my sleep,
When thou didst my lady behold?’
‘Dear master, I barked with my mouth when she came,
And likewise my collar I shook;
And told you that here was the beautiful dame,
But no notice of me then you took.’
‘O! where wast thou, my servingman,
Whom I have clothèd so fine?
If you had waked me when she was here,
The wager then had been mine.’
In the night you should have slept, master,
And kept awake in the day;
Had you not been sleeping when hither she came,
Then a maid she had not gone away.’
Then home he returned when the wager was lost,
With sorrow of heart, I may say;
The lady she laughed to find her love crost,—
This was upon midsummer-day.