Francis James Child

“ They have all courted a pretty maid,
And guess wha she micht be.
The Eastmure king courted her for gold,
And the Westmure king for fee,
The king of Onore for womanheid,
And for her fair beautie.
The Eastmure king swore a solemn oath,
He would keep it till May,
That he would murder the king of Onore,
Upon his wedding day.
When bells was rung, and psalms was sung,
And all men boune for sleep,
Up and started the Eastmure king
At the king of Onore's head. ”

“ And he has murdered the king of Onore,
As innocent as he was born.
This maid she awak'd in the middle of the night,
Was in a drowsy dream;
She found her bride's-bed swim with blood,
Bot and her good lord slain. ”