| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
|
||
|
OK, EDOM O' GORDON. 153
The lady gate to her close parler, 83
The fire fell aboute her head; She toke up her children thre,
Seth, " Babes, we are all dead."
Then bespake the bye steward,
That is of hye degree; 90
Saith, " Ladie gay, you are no ' bote,'
"Wethere ye fighte or flee."
Lord Hamleton dremd in his dreame,
In Carvall where he laye, His halle 'was' all of fyre, , as
His ladie slayne or daye.
" Busk and bowne, my merry men all,
Even and go ye with me, For I 'dremd' that my hall was on fyre
My lady slayne'or day." 100
He buskt him and bownd him,
And like a worthi knighte, And when he saw his hall burning,
His.harte was no dele lighte.
He sett a trumpett till his mouth, ice
He blew as it plesd his grace ; Twenty score of Hambletons
Was light aboute the place. |
||
|
|
||