Poetry Collection

85

And she had onely in her heart a loue so true,As she eche night lay longing to make him to come she knew.This lady and the other bete may be read in iewalles plain,How many ladies there were in those daies foule decayd:But I must speake no more of this gentle feend in hell,For there's none such living here on earth but he can tell it well.He can tell also how all these castles are now bent;By whose hand each castle hath bene razed downe to ground;And how of old time they were full high, as men do know,But the beauteous Margarete had so the feend in hand,That nothing them was harde, that could they heare or see,So she did wonder when they told her all things past and present bee."And yet," said she, "I fynd my selfe that I did never dye:And I trust thou hast not done me wrong, for I am sure we both shall die."