“’Twas only once that I had the bliss
From her rosy mouth to snatch a kiss.”
“O better, better to sink in death,
Than unto two brothers plight my faith.”
Ribolt was dead ere the cock did cry,
Gulborg was dead ere the sun was high.
They bore from the Castle corses three,
A handsome corse was each to see.
The one was Ribolt, the other his bride,
His mother the third, of grief she died.
* * * * *
London:
Printed for THOMAS J. WISE, Hampstead, N.W.
Edition limited to Thirty Copies.