7
And softly cried, Oh stay my love,
my true love, stay for me;
Stay till I've deckt my bridal bed,
and I will follow thee.
Enough, enough, thou sore-tried dear!
the weeping knight exclaim'd;
Enough I've tried thee, matchless fair,
and be the trial blam'd:
I am thy love, thy own true love,
and I am come to wed;
Nor shall this turf thy green grave prove,
nor be thy bridal bed.
I am a knight of noble name,
and thou of low degree;
So, like a shepherd poor I came,
to prove thy constancy.
But still, with woe forlorn, she cried
my true love, stay for me;
Stay till I've deckt my bridal bed,
and I will follow thee.
Again, enough, thou sore-tried maid!
the knight in tears exclaim'd;
See at thy feet thy true love laid,
of all his guile asham'd.
Forgive me maid—my love now prove,
and let us instant wed.
And thou with tears of joy, my love,
shall deck thy bridal bed!
