[130. Sir Andrew Barton]
I
As it befel in midsummer-time,
When birds singe sweetlye on every tree,
Our noble king, King Henry the Eighth,
Over the river of Thames pass’d he.
II
He was no sooner over the river,
Downe in a forrest to take the ayre,
But eighty merchants of London citye
Came kneeling before King Henry there.
III
‘O ye are welcome, rich merchànts,
Good saylers, welcome unto me!’
They swore by the rood they were saylers good,
But rich merchànts they co’ld not be.