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THE WOEFUL LADY.
THE snow it lay light, and the snow it lay cold,
It carelessly covered the desolate wold.
As a lover that loves not doth smile on a maid,
So the moonlight and frost-light capriciously played ;
And alone stood the woeful lady.
Her robe like a shadow did muffle her feet,
Her face from the camlet shone pitiful sweet ;
Like a nun's was the dress, but her neck it was bare,
For a babe like a snow-flake lay shivering there ;
And she wept, did the woeful lady.
"O my lover had sinned, had sinned,
So I left him and went my way;
And I clutched at Heaven, in robber guise;
It is Hell I have gained this day.
