Dear Lord Marquis, noble Walter,
Thine Griseld shall be no more
She hath ta’en deep to water
Yonder e’er than the shore.
Thine despise Griseld abhor’d;
For to farewell a letter-
Not to see thee much the better.
A means that holdeth her down,
After this eve she cans’t borrow.
In the sea-belly to drown.
Yet no wishes for to-morrow.
Thou hath put her to great sorrow
Once, twice. Lest thou pleaseth thee
Shame her thrice it shall not be.
Hath thou no eyes in thine sockets
Thou shall covet thine own flock,
The more thou fulleth thine pockets
Milk-white steed and dainty smock.
Blessed every golden lock
On mine girl’s head. Mine boy’s eyes
Shall not see their mother’s cries.
Thou doth great dole nor I pray;
A grave bosom shall I carry
For to rest below, away.
Long ere this day did I tarry,
An I liveth I shall marry
Thou: my soul’s possess’t.
Farewell my love, it’s best.