• The [?]tles shadows fall along the wall,
• It's night at Haye-la-Serre;
• The maidens weave since day grew eve,
• The lady's in her chair.

• It's two days that Earl Simon's gone
• 10 And it's the second night;
• At Haye-la-Serre the lady's fair,
• In June the moon is light.

• O it's “Maids, ye'll wake till I come back,”
• And the hound 's has i' the lady's chair:
• No shuttles fall[?] fly, the web work stands still by,
• It's blithe gayplay at Haye-la-Serre.

• The night is worn, the lamp's forlorn,
• The shadows waste and ail;
• There's morning air at Haye-la-Serre,
• 20 The watching maids look pale.

• Added TextO all unmarked the birds at dawn
• Ah! [?]ly [?] the dawn's [?]
• Where drowsy maidens be;
• But heard too soon the lark's first bird's tune
• Beneath the trysting tree.

• “Hold me thy hand, sweet Dennis Shand,”
• Says the Lady Joan de Haye,
• “That thou to-morrow do forget
• Today and yesterday.

• “O it's the autumn nights are chill,
• 30 The winter nights are long,
• And my lord wi 'll bide at home o' night s
• As long as the swallow's gone.

• “This summer he'll not be back forth again
• And not again till Spring;
• The wind is cold to him that's old
• And the frost withering.

• “We've all to fear; there's Maud the spy,
• There's Ann whose face I scor'd,
• There's Blanch tells Huot everything,
• 40 And Huot loves my lord.

• “But O and it's my Dennis i 'll know,
• When my eyes look weary dim,
• Who finds the gold for his girdle-fee
• And who keeps love for him.”

• The morrow's come & the morrow-night,
• It's feast at Haye-la-Serre,
• And Dennis Shand the cup must hand
• Beside Earl Simon's chair.

• And still when the high pouring's done
• 50 And cup and flagon clink,
• Till his lady's lips have touched the brim
• Earl Simon will not drink.

• But it's, “Joan my wife,” Earl Simon says,
• “Your maids are white and wan.”
• And it's, “O,” she says, “they've watched the night
• With Maud's sick sister Ann.”

• But it's, “Lady Joan and Joan my bird,
• Yourself look white and wan.”
• And it's, “O, I've walked the night myself
• 60 To pull the herbs for Ann:

• “And some of your knaves were at the hutch
• And some in the cellarage,
• But the only one that watched with us
• Was Dennis Shand your page.

• “Look at on the boy, sweet honey lord,
• at
• And mark his drooping ee How pale he is in ee
  Added TextAnd mark his drooping ee:
• The rosy colour's not yet back
• That paled served paled in serving me.”

• O it's, “Wife, your maids are foolish jades,
• 70 And you're a silly chuck,
• And the lazy knaves shall get their staves
• About their ears for luck:

• “But Dennis Shand may take the cup
• And pour the wine to his hand;
• Wife, thou shalt touch it with thy lips,
• And drink thou, Dennis Shand!”