Reliques of ancient English poetry: consisting of old heroic ballads ...

AND BAL'LA D S. 12I
When day was come, and night was gone, 25
And all men wak'd from fleep,
Sweet William to his lady fayd,
My dear, I have caufe to weep.
I dreamt a dream, my dear ladye,
Such dreames are never good : 30
I dreamt my bower was full of red fwine,
And my bride-bed full of blood.
Such dreams, fuch dreams, my honoured Sir,
They never do prove good;
To dream thy bower was full of « red ' fwine, 35
And thy bride-bed full of blood.
He called up his merry men all,
By one, by two, and by three
Saying, I'll away to fair Marg'rets bower,
By the leave of my ladye. 40
And when he came to fair Marg'ret's bower,
He knocked at the ring ;
And who fo ready as her feven brethren
To let fweet William in.
Then he turned up the covering- meet,,
Pray let me fee the dead :
Methinks lhe does look pale and wan 9
She has loft her cherry red.
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4.5
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