340 NOTES. 27. * A grave, a grave,' Lord Barnard cryd, ' To put these lovers in ; But lay my lady on the upper hand, For she came of the better kin.' GLASGERION. Glasgerion was a king's owne sonne, And a harper he was good ; He harped in the king's chamber, Where cuppe and candle stoode, And soe did hee in the queen's chamber, Till ladies waxed wood. And then bespake the king's daughter, And these words thus sayd shee . . . Saide, * Strike on, strike on, Glasgerrion, Of thy striking do not blinne ; There's never a stroke comes over thine harpe But it glads my hart within.'
- Faire might you fall, lady ! ' quoth he ;
- Who taught you now to speake ?
I have loved you, lady, seven yeere ; My hart I durst neere breake.'
- But come to my bower, my Glasgerryon,
When all men are att rest ; As I am a ladie true of my promise, Thou shalt be a welcome guest.' But horn then came Glasgerryon, A glad man. Lord, was hee ;
- And come thou hither, Jacke, my boy,
Come hither unto mee.
- For the king's daughter of Normandye,
Her love is granted mee, And beffore the cocke have crowen, Att her chamber must I bee.' Digitized by LjOOQIC
