Page:Knight of Elle (2).pdf/5

 For well I wot he ne’er could rest

Nor his meat do him good,

Till he had slain thee, Child of Elle,

And seen thy dear heart’s blood.

O lady wert thou in thy saddle set,

And once without this wall—

I would not care for thy cruel father

Nor the worst that might befall.

Fair Emmeline sighed—fair Emmeline wept,

And aye her heart was woe;

At length he seized her lilly-white hand

And down the ladder her drew.

And thrice he clasp’d her to his breast.

And kissed her tenderly;

The tears that fell from her fair e’en

Ran like the fountains down.

He mounted himself on his steed sae tall,

And her on a fair palfrey,

And swung his bugle round his neck,

And roundly they rode away.

All this beheard her own damsel,

In her bed whereas she lay;

Quoth she, my Lord shall know of this,

So I shall hae gold and fee.

Awake, awake, thou baron bold!

Awake, my noble dame,

Your daughter is fled with the Child of Elle

To do the deed of shame.