If she be dead, then take my horse,
My saddle and bridle also;
For I will into some farr countrye,
Where noe man shall me knowe.
O staye, O staye, thou goodlye youthe, 45
She standeth by thy side;
She is here alive, she is not dead,
And readye to be thy bride.
O farewell griefe, and welcome joye,
Ten thousand times therefore; 50
For nowe I have founde mine owne true love,
Whom I thought I should never see more.
IX.
THE WILLOW TREE.
A Pastoral Dialogue.
From the small black-letter collection, intitled, The Golden Garland of princely delights; collated with two other copies, and corrected by conjecture.
[Dr. Rimbault gives the melody of this pretty little pastoral on the favourite subject of wearing the willow from a MS. dated 1639 in the Advocate's Library, Edinburgh. It is also to be found in the celebrated Skene MS. in the same library, and again in all the editions of Forbes's Cantus.]