Identifier: gri_33125012902363 (find matches)
Title: The book of British ballads
Year: 1842 (1840s)
Authors: Hall, S. C. (Samuel Carter), 1800-1889
Subjects: Ballads, English
Publisher: London : J. How
Contributing Library: Getty Research Institute
Digitizing Sponsor: Getty Research Institute

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thrall. And nowe the kinge with all his harons Rose uppe from offe his seate,And downe he stepped into the listes, That curteous knighte to greete. But he for payne and lack of bloude Was fallen into a swounde,And there all walteringe in his gore Lay lifelesse on the grounde. Come downe, come downe, my daughterThou art a leeche of skille; (deare, Farre lever had I lose halfe my landes,Than this good knighte sholde spille. Downe then steppeth that fayre ladye, To helpe him if she maye;But when she did his beavere raise, It is my life, my lord, she sayes, And shriekte and swound awaye. Sir Cauline juste lifte up his eyesWhen he hearde his ladye crye, O ladye, I am thine owne true love;For thee I wisht to dye. Then giving her one partinge looke, He closed his eyes in death,Ere Christabelle, that ladye milde, Begane to drawe her breath. But when she found her comelye knighte Indeed was dead and gone,She layde her pale cold cheeke to his, And thus she made her moane: J J- Franklin del. 311
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