And the Princess shall get the Singing Leaves,
Or mine be a traitor’s fate.”
The King’s head dropt upon his breast
A moment, as it might be;
’Twill be my dog, he thought, and said,
“My faith I plight to thee.”
Then Walter took from next his heart
A package small and thin,
“Now give you this to the Princess Anne,
The Singing Leaves are therein.”