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ANCIENT

POEMS.

53

Now God you fave, our queene, madame,
And Christ you save and fee;

Heere

you have chofen a newe newe love, And you will have none of mee.

If you had chofen a right good knight,
The leffe had been your shame:
you have chose you a lazar man,
A lazar both blinde and lame.

But

Therfore a fyer there fhall be built,

And brent all fhalt thou bee.

"Now out alacke! fand our comly queene,
Sir Aldingar's falfe to mee.

Now out alacke! fayd our comlye queene,
My heart with griefe will braft.

I had thought fwevens had never been true;
I have proved them true at last.

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بورر

Saving there came a litle 'grey' hawke,
A merlin him they call,

Which untill the grounde did ftrike the grype,
That dead he downe did fall.

Giffe I were a man, as now I am none,

A battell wold I.prove,

To fight with that traitor Aldingar;

Att him I caft my glove.

But feeing Ime able noe battell to make,
My liege, grant me a knight
To fight with that traitor Aldingar,
To maintaine me in my right."

"Now forty dayes I will give thee

To feeke thee a knight therin:

If thou find not a knight in forty dayes

Thy bodye it must brenn."

Then thee fent eaft, and fhee fent weft,

By north and fouth bedeene:

But never a champion colde fhe find,

Wolde fight with that knight foe keene,

Now twenty dayes were spent and gone,
Noe helpe there might be had;
Many a teare fhed our comelye queene

And aye her hart was fad.

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ANCIENT POEMS.

Then came one of the queenes damsèlles,
And knelt upon her knee,

"Cheare up, cheare up, my gracious dame,

I trust yet helpe may be:

And here I will make mine avowe,

And with the fame me binde; That never will I return to thee, Till I fome helpe may finde."

Then forth the rode on a faire palfràye
Oer hill and dale about:

But never a champion colde fhe finde,
Wolde fighte with that knight fo ftout,

And nowe the daye drewe on a pace,
When our good queene muft dye;

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All woe-begone was that faire damsèlle,
When the found no helpe was nye.

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