Knight And Wamba <br /> <br /> <br />There came three merry men from south, west, and north, <br />Ever more sing the roundelay; <br />To win the Widow of Wycombe forth, <br />And where was the widow might say them nay? <br /> <br />The first was a knight, and from Tynedale he came, <br />Ever more sing the roundelay; <br />And his fathers, God save us, were men of great faine, <br />And where was the widow might say him nay? <br /> <br />Of his father the laird, of his uncle the squire, <br />He boasted in rhyme and in roundelay; <br />She bade him go bask by his sea-coal fire, <br />For she was the widow would say him nay. <br /> <br /> <br />Wamba <br /> <br />The next that came forth, swore by blood and by nails, <br />Merrily sing the roundelay; <br />Hur's a gentleman, God wot, and hur's lineage was of Wales, <br />And where was the widow might say him nay? <br /> <br />Sir David ap Morgan ap Griffith ap Hugh <br />Ap Tudor ap Rhice, quoth his roundelay; <br />She said that one widow for so many was too few, <br />And she bade the Welshman wend his way. <br /> <br />But then next came a yeoman, a yeoman of Kent, <br />Jollily singing his roundelay; <br />He spoke to the widow of living and rent, <br />And where was the widow could say him nay? <br /> <br /> <br />Both <br /> <br />So the knight and the squire were both left in the mire, <br />There for to sing their roundelay; <br />For a yeoman of Kent, with his yearly rent, <br />There never was a widow could say him nay.<br /><br />Sir Walter Scott<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-black-knight-s-song/
