  It was filled up with heavy white and red; Great roses stained still where the first rose bled, Burning at heart for shame their heart withholds: And the sad colour of strong marigolds That have the sun to kiss their lips for love; The flower that Venus' hair is woven of, The colour of fair apples in the sun, Late peaches gathered when the heat was done And the slain air got breath; and after these The fair faint-headed poppies drunk with ease, And heaviness of hollow lilies red. Then cried they all that saw these things, and said It was God's doing, and was marvellous. And in brief while this knight Theophilus Is waxen full of faith, and witnesseth Before the king of God and love and death, For which the king bade hang him presently. A gallows of a goodly piece of tree This Gabalus hath made to hang him on. Forth of this world lo Theophile is gone With a wried neck, God give us better fare Than his that hath a twisted throat to wear; But truly for his love God hath him brought There where his heavy body grieves him nought Nor all the people plucking at his feet; But in his face his lady's face is sweet, And through his lips her kissing lips are gone: God send him peace, and joy of such an one. This is the story of St. Dorothy. I will you of your mercy pray for me Because I wrote these sayings for your grace, That I may one day see her in the face. |
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