"Lord Abbot! Lord Abbot! I'd fain confess;
I am a-weary, and worn with woe;
Many a grief doth my heart oppress,
And haunt me whithersoever I go!"
On bended knee spake the beautiful Maid;
"Now lithe and listen, Lord Abbot, to me!"--
"Now naye, fair daughter," the Lord Abbot said,
"Now naye, in sooth it may hardly be.
"There is Mess Michael, and holy Mess John,
Sage penitauncers I ween be they!