'Content thyself, my dearest love,
Thy rest at home shall be
In England's sweet and pleasant isle;
For travel fits not thee.
My Rose shall safely here abide,
With music pass the day;
Whilst I, among the piercing pikes,
My foes seek far away.
And you, Sir Thomas, whom I trust
To be my love's defence;
Be careful of my gallant Rose
When I am parted hence.'
And therewithal he fetch'd a sigh
As though his heart would break:
And Rosamund, for very grief,
Not one plain word could speak.
And at their parting well they might
In heart be grieved sore:
After that day fair Rosamund
The king did see no more.
For when his Grace had past the seas,
And into France was gone,
With envious heart queen Ellinor
To Woodstock came anone.
And forth she calls this trusty knight
In an unhappy hour;
Who with his clue of twined thread
Came from this famous bower.
And when that they had wounded him
The queen this thread did get,
And went, where lady Rosamund
Was like an angel set.
But when the queen with steadfast eye
Beheld her beauteous face,
She was amazed in her mind
At her exceeding grace.
'Cast off from thee those robes,' she said,
'That rich and costly be;
And drink thou up this deadly draught,
Which I have brought to thee.'