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Soft Tears bedimn’d his noble Sight,

His grieved Heart was sad;
Altho' he was as brave a Knight

As any Henry had.
With that, this noble Knight of Fame

Rode on without delay,
Until he to the Bower came,

Which was both rich and gay:
She cry'd, when he knock'd at the Ring,

Who raps so fierce and bold ?
Sifter, I've brought you from the King

Three Letters seal'd with Gold.
Then with her Fingers, long and small,

She broke the Seals of Gold ;
And as she did to reading fall

At first, you might behold
The Smiles of pleasant sweet Delight,

As if well fatisfy'd;
But e're she had concluded quite,

She wrung her Hands, and cry'd :
Why did you boast beyond your Bounds,

When Oxford you did see?
You might have talk'd of Hawks and Hounds,

And never bragg’d of me.
When by the King I am defil'd,

My Father's Griefs begin;
He'll have no Comfort of his Child,

Nor come to my Wedding.
Go, fetch me down my Planet-Book

Straight from my private Room;
For in the same I mean to look,

What is decreed my Doom.
The Planet-Book to her they brought,

And laid it on her Knee;
She found that all would come to nought,
For poison'd she should be.

I curse

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I curse you, Brother, then she cry'd,

Who caus’d my Destiny;
I might have been some Lord's fair Bride,

But you have ruin'd me.
With that, she call d her Waiting-Maid,

To bring her Riding Weed;
And to her Groom she likewise said,

Saddle my milk-white Steed.
Some rid before her, to report

Her coming to the King :
As she approach'd the Royal Court,

Sweet Peals of Bells did ring.
A Garland o're her Head they bore,

To magnify her Charms;
And as she came the King before,

He clasp'd her in his Arms.
With Blushes then she did beseech

The King on her bare Knee;
Her Words were these, I pray, my Liege,

What is your Will with me?
Said he, I sent for thee, my Rofe,

To grace my Royal Bed :
Now, as he did his Mind disclose,

She blushed Scarlet red.
Blush not, my faireft Rofamond;

Fear no unhappy Fate;
For, by my Kingly Pow'r, I can

Place thee in happy State :
No Lady in this Court of mine

Can purchase thy Desert;
Whose pleasant Looks, and Charms divine,

Have won my Royal Heart.
The Gifts and Presents of a King,

Soon caus'd her to comply; Thinking there was not any Thing Like Royal Dignity.

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But as her bright and golden Scene

In Court began to shine,
The News was carry'd to the Queen

Of this new Concubine:
At which she was enraged so

With Malice in her Breast,
That till she wrought her Overthrow,

She could not be at Rest.
She felt the Fury of the Queen,

E're she had flourish'd long;
And dy'd, just as she had foreseen,

By force of Poyfon strong.
The angry Queen, with Malice fraught,

Cou'd not her self contain,
Till she fair Rofamond had brought

To her sad fatal Bane.
The sweet and charming precious Rofe,

King Henry's chief Delight!
The Queen she to the Bower goes,

And wrought her hateful Spite :
But when she to the Bower came,

Where Lady Clifford lay, Enraged Ellinor by Name

She could not find the Way;
Until the Gilken Clue of Thread

Became a fatal Guide
Unto the Queen; who laid her dead,

E're she was fatisfy'd.
Alas! it was no small Surprize

To Rofamond the fair,
When Death appear'd before her Eyes,

No faithful Friend was there,
Who could stand up in her Defence,

To put the Potion by ;
So, by the Hands of Violence,

Compell’d she was to dye.

O most

O most renowned, gracious Queen,

Compassion take of me;
I wish that I had never seen

Such Royal Dignity.
Betray'd I was, and by degrees

A sad Consent I gave;
And now, upon my bended knees,

I do your Pardon crave.
I will not pardon you, the cry'd ;

So take this fatal Cup :
And you may well be satisfy'd;

I'll see you drink it up.
Then, with her fair and milk-white Hand,

The fatal Cup she took ;
Which being drank, she could not stand,

But soun the World forsook.
Now when the King was well inform'd

What Ellinor had done,
His Breast he smote, in wrath he storm'd,

As if he would have run
Besides his Senses; and he swore,

For this inhuman Deed,
He never would bed with her more ;

His Royal Heart did bleed.
The King did not stand pausing long,

How to reward her Spleen ;
But straight in a close Prison strong

He cast his cruel Queen :
Where The lay Six and twenty Years,

A long Captivity,
Bathed in Floods of weeping Tears,

Till his Death set her free.
Now when her Son he did succeed

His Father, Great Henry;
His Royal Mother soon he freed

From her Captivity:

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And the set many more at large,

Who long for Debt had lain; Her Royal Pity did discharge

Thousands in Richard's Reign.

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