A poore soule sat sighing under a sycamore tree Oh willow, willow, willow With his hand on his bosom, his head on his knee, Oh willow, willow, willow.
More Quotes from Thomas Percy:
He that would not when he might, He shall not when he wolda.Thomas Percy
Weep no more, lady, weep no more, Thy sorrowe is in vaine For violets pluckt, the sweetest showers Will ne'er make grow againe.
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'What is thy name, faire maid' quoth he. 'Penelophon, O King' quoth she.
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When Arthur first in court began, And was approved king.
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A Robyn, Jolly Robyn, Tell me how thy leman does.
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