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LAINE's voice is heard again.
LAINE. |
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With roses red they crowned her head |
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Bright was the sun on the city wall! — |
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But the light hath fled, and the day is dead,
And the rose-leaves all are withered— |
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Oh, for the sun on the city wall! |
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Then tell me, I pray, ye gallants gay, |
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As ye climb the castle stair, |
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If your lord should chance to ride this way |
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Would he list to a poor maid's prayer? |
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Alack, alack! could he give her back |
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A heart that is prisoned there? |
NOTE: Robin Gordon-Powell thinks this reprise of this song was probably sung unaccompanied.
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Page modified 16 October 2011