'And I have hunted the wild deer
In east lands and in west;
And never saw I white doe yet
That had a maiden's breast.'
Then up and spake her fair brother,
Between the wine and bread,
'Behold, I had but one sister,
And I have been her dead.'
'But ye must bury my sweet sister
With a stone at her foot and her head,
And ye must cover her fair body
With the white roses and red.'
And I must out to the greenwood,
The roof shall never shelter me;
And I shall lie for seven long years
On the grass below the hawthorn tree.
A LADY OF HIGH DEGREE.
[I be pareld most of prise,
I ride after the wild fee.]
Will ye that I should sing
Of the love of a goodly thing,
Was no vilein's may?
'Tis sung of a knight so free,
Under the olive tree,
Singing this lay.
Her weed was of samite fine,
Her mantle of white ermine,
Green silk her hose;
Her shoon with silver gay,
Her sandals flowers of May,
Laced small and close.
Her belt was of fresh spring buds,
Set with gold clasps and studs,
Fine linen her shift;
Her purse it was of love,
Her chain was the flower thereof,
And Love's gift.
Upon a mule she rode,
The selle was of brent gold,
The bits of silver made;
Three red rose trees there were
That overshadowed her,
For a sun shade.
She riding on a day,
Knights met her by the way,
They did her grace;
'Fair lady, whence be ye?'
'France it is my countrie,
I come of a high race.
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