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68 THE LEGEND OP SIE GUY.
Where with my hands I hewed a house Out of a craggy rocke of stone,
And lived like a palmer poore us
Within that cave myself alone :
And daylye came to begg my bread Of Phelis att my castle gate ;
Not knowne unto my loved wiffe,
Who dailye mourned for her mate. 1*
Till att the last I fell sore sicke,
Yea, sicke soe sore that I must dye ;
I sent to her a ring of golde,
By which shee knew me presentlye.
Then shee repairing to the cave, 125
Before that I gave up the ghost,
Herself closd up my dying eyes ; My Phelis faire, whom I lovd most.
Thus dreadful death did me arrest,
To bring my corpe3 unto the grave, 130
And like a palmer dyed I,
Wherby I sought my soule to save.
My body that endured this toyle, Though now it be consumed to mold,
My statue, faire engraven in stone, iss
In Warwicke still you may behold.