My dear rose, what doest thou?" "I gather flowers; my heart I'm telling My garlanded hair will attest my vow." "Cook not your fowls, nor trim your dresses, Put no flowers in your hair. My dear rose pale, for your raven tresses A branch of willow you may find and wear." The fatal fight is done and over, Three came back to tell the tale. On the bloody field there lies thy lover, And his winding sheet is his broken mail. " Oh, cruel bird, I 'll curse your singing, Fatal voice that tears my breast. My mother the shroud will soon be bringing, And in white grave clothes I 'll be drest." POISONED JANOS. "Whence comest thou with knitted brows, My heart, my soul, my little son?" " I come from my love's sister's house, Dear lady mother. Oh, my heart aches so, Make ready my bed." "What has she given you to eat, My heart, my soul, my little son?" "She gave me a crab with four feet, 1 1 The crab with four feet is the conventional poisonous food in Hungarian folk-lore, as the toad is in English and the spotted frog in French. Dear lady mother. Oh, my heart aches so, Make ready my bed." "How served she it for you to dine, My heart, my soul, my little son?" "She served it in a salver fine, Dear lady mother. Oh, my heart aches so, Make ready my bed." "Is it that makes you look so white, My heart, my soul, my little son?" " Yes, that will kill me ere the night, Dear lady mother. Oh, my heart aches so, Make ready my bed." "What will you leave your father gray, My heart, my soul, my little son?" "My brass-trimmed wagon, new and gay, Dear lady mother. Oh, my heart aches so, Make ready my bed." "What will you leave your brother brave, My heart, my soul, my little son?" "My four strong oxen he can have, Dear lady mother. Oh, my heart aches so, Make ready my bed." "What will you leave your brother fair, My heart, my soul, my little son?" "My four swift horses for his share, Dear lady mother. Oh, my heart aches so, Make ready my bed." "What will you leave your sister bright, My heart, my soul, my little son?" "My household vessels silver white, Dear lady mother. Oh, my heart aches so, Make ready my bed." " What will you leave your love's false kin, My heart, my soul, my little son?" "The fire of hell her heart within, Dear lady mother. Oh, my heart aches so,