Then up and spake her fair brother,
Between the wine and bread,
'Behold, I had but one sister,
And I have been her dead.'

'But ye must bury my sweet sister
With a stone at her foot and her head,
And ye must cover her fair body
With the white roses and red.'

And I must out to the greenwood,
The roof shall never shelter me;
And I shall lie for seven long years
On the grass below the hawthorn tree.



A LADY OF HIGH DEGREE.



[I be pareld most of prise,
I ride after the wild fee.]

Will ye that I should sing
Of the love of a goodly thing,
Was no vilein's may?
'Tis sung of a knight so free,
Under the olive tree,