'Sweet Florence, why these briny tears?
They wash my soul away,
And almost make me wish for life,
With thee, sweet dame, to stay.
''Tis but a journey I shall go
Unto the land of bliss;
Now, as a proof of husband's love
Receive this holy kiss.'
Then Florence, faltering in her say,
Trembling these wordis spoke:
'Ah, cruel Edward! bloody king!
My heart is well-nigh broke.
'Ah, sweet Sir Charles, why wilt thou go
Without thy loving wife?
The cruel axe that cuts thy neck,
It eke shall end my life.'
And now the officers came in
To bring Sir Charles away,
Who turnèd to his loving wife,
And thus to her did say:
'I go to life, and not to death;
Trust thou in God above,
And teach thy sons to fear the Lord,
And in their hearts Him love.
'Teach them to run the noble race
That I their father run.
Florence, should death thee take—adieu!
Ye officers, lead on.'
Then Florence raved as any mad,
And did her tresses tear;
'O stay, my husband, lord, and life!'—
Sir Charles then dropped a tear.
Till tirèd out with raving loud,
She fell upon the floor;
Sir Charles exerted all his might,
And marchèd from out the door.
Upon a sledge he mounted then,
With looks full brave and sweet;
Looks that enshone no more concern
Than any in the street.