" My Rosamond, my only Rose That pleasest best mine eye, The fairest flower in all the world To feed my fantasy, The flower of my affected heart, Whose sweetness doth excel, My royal Rose, a thousand times 1 bid thee now farewell. " For I must leave my fairest flower. My sweetest Ros' a space, And cross the seas to famous France, Proud rebels to abase. But yet my Rose, be sure thou shalt My coming shortly see, And in my heart, when hence I am, I'll bear my Rose with me." When Rosamond, that lady bright, Did hear the king say so, The sorrow of her grieved heart Her outward looks did show, And from her clear and crystal eyes Tears gushed out apace, Which like the silver pearled dew Ran down her comely face. Her lips erst like the coral red, Did wax both wan and pale, And for the sorrow she conceived Her vital spirits did fail. And falling down all in a swoon, Before King Henry's face, Full oft he iu his princely arms lier budy did embrace. And twenty times with watery eyes, He kissed her tender cheek, Until he had revived again Her seuses mild and meek. •• Why grieves my Rose, my sweetest Rose The king did often say. " Because,'' quoth she, " to bloody wars My lord must pass away. " But since your grace on foreign coasts, Among your foes unkind, Must go to hazard life and limb, Why should I stay behind! HEROINES OF THE CRUSADES.