VI
‘Oh what is the matter?’ Lord Lovel he said,
‘Oh what is the matter?’ said he;
‘A lord’s lady is dead,’ a woman replied,
‘And some call her Lady Nancỳ.’
VII
So he order’d the grave to be open’d wide.
And the shroud he turnèd down,
And there he kiss’d her clay-cold lips,
Till the tears came trickling down.
VIII
Lady Nancy she died, as it might be, today,
Lord Lovel he died as tomorrow;
Lady Nancy she died out of pure, pure grief,
Lord Lovel he died out of sorrow.
IX
Lady Nancy was laid in St. Pancras’ Church,
Lord Lovel was laid in the choir;
And out of her bosom there grew a red rose,
And out of her lover’s a briar.
X
They grew, and they grew, to the church-steeple top,
And then they could grow no higher;
So there they entwined in a true-lovers’ knot,
For all lovers true to admire.