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

ij8 ANCIENT SONGS
The little babe fprings in my wombe
To heare its fathers voyce,
Lett it not be a baftard call'd, 35
Sith I made thee my choyce :
Come, come, my love, perform thy vowe
And wed me out of hand
O leave me not in this extreme,
In griefe alwayes to Hand. 40
Thinke on thy former promifes,
Thy oathes and vowes eche one
Remember with what bitter teares
To mee thou madeft thy moane.
Convay me to fome fecrett place, At
And marry me with fpeedej
Or with thy rapyer end my life,
Ere further fliame proceede.
Alacke ! my deareft love, quoth hee,
My greateft joye on earthe,
Which waye can I convay thee hence,
r*
Without a fudden death ?
Thy friends are all of hye degree,
And I of meane eftate ;
Full hard it is to gett thee forthe
Out of thy fathers gate.
;
;
55
Dread