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TN antiente times in Britain's ifle
I Lord Henrie was well knowne;
Nor more deserv'd renowne;
He never bow'd to love;
His frozen heart to move.
1 Y lodging it is on the cold ground, IV and very hard is my fare; But that which troubles me mott is
the unkindess of my dear; Yet still I cry, O turn love,
and I prethee love turn to me, For thou art the mản that I long for,
and alack what remedy, ,
I'll crown thee with a garland of straw then,
and I'll marry thee with a rushiring, My frozen hopes shall thaw then,
and merrily we will fing: O turn to me my dear love,
And I prethee love turn to me, For thou art the man that alone car.ft procure my liberty.