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To the place it did repair,
But no true-love was there;
Then frightened to his mother he did go:
And told what unto him there did appear,
Saying, I fear you have kill’d my dear;
For a dove I do declare,
Did all in blood appear,
And if she is dead, I’ll have my share.
His mother hearing of what he did say,
Did turn as pale as death, and swoon’d away:
She in distraction run,
And told him what she’d done,
And where the virgin’s body it was laid.
He nothing more did say, but took a knife,
Farewell the joy and pleasure of my life:
He unto the garden flew,
And pierc’d his body through:
It was cursed gold that caus’d the strife!
These lovers in one silent tomb were laid,
And many a briny tear for them was paid:
The gardener, as we hear,
Was apprehended there,
And now all three are in their silent grave.
