Classic Poem

As it befell one Saturday att Noone
as I went vp Scottland gate,
I herd one to another say,
" Iohn a Bagilie hath lost his Mate "

Att Eaton watter I washe my hands —
for tickling teares I cold scarce see —
I lifted vp my lillywhite hands,
" O Kattye whitworth, god be w i th thee!

" There is none but you & I, sweet hart,
noe lookers on we can allowe;
yo u r lippes, they be soe sugered sweete,
I must doe more then kisse you now! "

" ffarwell, my loue, my leaue I take!
tho ugh against my will, it must be soe: —
noe Marueill all this Mone I make,
whom I loue best I must for-goe! "

" If tha t thou wilt Scottland forsake,
& come into fayre England w i th mee,
both kith & kinn I will for-sake,
bonny sweete wench, to goe w i th thee. "

There was 2 men, they loued a lasse,
the one of them he was a Scott,
the other was an Englishman,
the name of him I haue quite forgott.

As I went vp Kelsall wood,
& vp that banke tha t was soe staire,
I looked ouer my left sholder
where I was wont to see my deere.

" There is sixteene in thy fathers house,
fifteene of them against me bee,
Not one of them to take my p ar t,
but only thou, pretty Katye. "

The yonge Man walked home againe
as time of night therto Moues;
the fayre Maid calld him backe againe,
and gaue to him a sweet payre of gloues:

" thy father hath siluer & gold enoughe,
siluer and gold to Maintaine thee,
but as ffor that, I doe not care
soe that thou wilt my true loue be. "

When I was younge & in my youth,
then cold I haue louers 2 or 3;
Now I am old & count the howers,
& faine wold doe, but it will not bee

" Vpon yo u r lipps my leaue I take,
desiring you to be my freind,
& grant me loue for loue againe;
for why, my life is att an end. "

" My mother, Kate, hath sent for mee,
& needly her I must obay!
I way not of thy constancy
when I am fled & gone away. "

" I weepe, I waile, I wring my hands,
I sobb, I sigh, I make heauy cheere!
Noe marueill all this moane I make,
for why, alas, I haue lost my deere! "