III
‘In faith thou art the honestest boy
That ere I blinkt on with mine e’e;
I think thou be some easterling born,
The Holy Ghost it is with thee.’
IV
He said he was no easterling born,
The child thus answer’d courteouslye:
‘My father he is the Lord of Lorn,
And I his one young son, perdie.’
V
The schoolmaster turn’d round about,
His angry mind he could not ’swage;
He marvell’d the child could speak so wise,
He being of so tender age.
VI
He girt the saddle to the steed,
A golden bridle done him upon;
He took his leave of his schoolfellows,
And home this Child of Lorn has gone.
VII
And when he came to his father dear
He kneelèd down upon his knee:
‘God’s blessing, father, I would ask,
If Christ would grant you to give it me.’—