8 And with these words, her lily lands, She wrung full often there, And down her comely face Proceeded many a tear. But nothing could this furious queen Herewith appeased be, Except the cup of deadly poison, Which she held on her knee. She gave this comely dame to drink, Who took it from her hand, And from her bended knees arose, And on her feet did stand: When, casting up her eyes to heaven, She did for mercy call, And drinking up the poison strong, She lost her life withal. And when that death thro' every limb Had done its greatest spite, Her chief foes could but confess, She was a glorious sight. Her body then they did entomb, When life was fled away, At Woodstock near to Oxford town, As may be seen this day. FINIS,
