Why did you not offer to stay my hand, 'When you saw' me wax so wood? For I have slain the bravest sir knight, 'That ever rode on a steed; 'So have I done the fairest lady, 'That ever did woman's deed. ́ A grave, a grave, (lord Barnard cried,) 'To put these lovers in ; 'But lay my lady o' th' upper hand, WHEN as king Henry rul'd this land, A sweeter creature in this world Her crisped locks like threads of gold Her sparkling eyes, like orient pearls, The blood within her crystal cheeks Did such a colour drive, As if the lily and the rose Yea Rosamond, fair Rosamond, To whom dame Eleanor, our queen, The king therefore, for her defence At Woodstock builded such a bower, Most curiously that bower was built, And, for his love and lady's sake, But Fortune, that doth often frown The king's delight, the lady's joy, Full soon she did beguile. 2 For why, the king's ungracious son, Within the realm of France. My Rosamond, my only Rose, That pleasest best mine eye, The fairest flower in all the world To feed my fantasy; * The flower of my affected heart, 'Whose sweetness doth excell: "My royal Rose, a thousand times I bid thee now farewell! For I must leave my fairest flower, And cross the seas to famous France, 'Proud rebels to abase. But yet, my Rose, be sure thou shalt 'My coming shortly see; And in my heart, when hence I am, 'I'll bear my Rose with me.' When Rosamond, that lady bright, Did hear the king say so, Her outward looks did show; Which, like the silver-pearled dew, 6 Her lips, erst like the coral red, Her body did embrace : And twenty times, with watery eyes, He kiss'd her tender cheek, Until he had reviv'd again Her senses mild and meek. 'Why grieves my Rose, my sweetest Rose?' The king did often say : Because, (quoth she) to bloody wars 'My lord must pass away. But since your grace, on foreign coasts, 'Among your foes unkind, 'Must go to hazard life and limb, Why should I stay behind? Nay, rather, let me, like a page, "Your sword and target bear; 'That on my breast the blows may light, 'Or let me, in your royal tent, 'Prepare your bed at night; And with sweet baths refresh your grace, 'So I your presence may enjoy, 'No toil I will refuse ; 'But wanting you, my life is death: 'Which doth true love abuse.' • Content thyself, my dearest love; Thy rest at home shall be ; In England's sweet and pleasant soil; For travel fits not thee. • Fair ladies brook not bloody wars ; My Rose shall rest in Woodstock-bower, 'With music's sweet delight; Whilst I, among the piercing pikes, 'Against my foes do fight. 'My Rose in robes of pearl and gold, With diamonds richly dight, 'Shall dance the galliards of my love, 'While I my foes do smite. 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 Rosamond, for very grief, Not one plain word could speak. |