4
The flower of my affected heart,
M Whose sweetness doth excel;
y royal rose, an hundred times
I bid you now farewell.
For I must leave my fairest rose,
My sweetest rose apace,
And cross the ocean into France,
Proud rebels to debase.
But still my rose, be sure thou shalt,
My coming shortly see,
And in my heart, when hence I am,
I'll bear my rose with me.
When Rosamond the lady bright,
Did hear the king say so,
The sorrows of it grieved her so,
Her outward looks did show.
And from her clear and crystal eyes,
The tears gush'd out apace,
And like the silver pearl dew,
Ran down her comely face.
And falling down into a swoon,
Before King Henry's face;
Full oft within his princely arms,
Her body did embrace.
And twenty times with wat’ry eyes,
He kiss'd her tender cheek,
Until he had revived again,
Her spirit mild and meek.
