Fair Ladies brook not bloody wars,
ſweet peace their pleaſure breed,
The nouriſher of hearts content,
whoſe fancy firſt did feed.
My roſe ſhall reſt in Woodſtock bower,
with muſic’s ſweet delight.
While I among the piercing pikes,
againſt my foes do fight.
My roſe in robes of pearl and gold,
with diamonds rich and bright.
Shall dance the galliards of my love,
while I my foes do ſmite.
And you, Sir Thomas, whom I truſt,
to be my love’s defence;
Be careful of my gallant roſe,
when I am parted hence.
And here withal he fetch’d a ſigh,
as tho’ his heart would break.
And Roſamond for very grief,
not one plain word could ſpeak.
And at their parting well they might,
in heart be grieved ſore,
After that day fair Roſamond
the king did ſee no more.
For when his grace paſſed the ſeas,
and into France was gone,
Queen Eleanor with envious heart,
to Woodſtock came anon.
