Sir Robert Atkyns' _History of Gloucestershire_, p. 435.


King Kenulph he died, as kings have died,
The will of the Lord be done;
And he left to the care of his daughter fair,
Queen Quendred, an infant son.
The daughter gazed at her brother king,
Her eye had an evil mote;
And then she played with his yellow hair,
And patted his infant throat;
And then she muster'd a bloody mind,
And whisper'd a favour'd slut,
While patting the infant monarch's throat,
It would not be much to cut.
The favour'd gipsey noted the hint,
And she thought it not amiss,
She hied to the infant's governor,
And gave him a loving kiss.
The kiss of woman's a wond'rous juice,
That poisoneth pious minds,
It worketh more than the wrath of hell,
And the eye of justice blinds.
So they cut the infant monarch's throat,
They buried him in the wood,
The Mistress Quendred liv'd as a queen,
And they thought the deed was good.
Now mark, how ill is a crime conceal'd,
Bad deeds will never accord,
The murder never beheld at home,