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 “I am a lowly peasant, and you a gallant knight;
I will not trust a love that soon may cool and turn to slight.
If you would wedme henceforth be a peasant, not a lord;
I bid you hang upon the wall your tried and trusty sword.”
“To please you, Elsie, I will lay keen Dynadel away,
And in its place will swing the scythe and mow your father's hay.”
“Nay, but your gallant scarlet cloak my eyes can never bear;
A Vadmal coat, so plain and gray, is all that you must wear.”
‘Well, Vadmal will I wear for you,’ the rider gayly spoke,
‘And on the Lord's high altar I'll lay my scarlet cloak.’
‘But mark,’ she said, “no stately horse my peasant love must ride,
A yoke of steers before the plough is all that he must guide.”
The knight looked down upon his steed: “Well, let him wander free:
No other man must ride the horse that has been backed by me.
Henceforth I'll tread the furrow and to my oxen talk,
If only little Elsie beside my plough will walk.”
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